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OUTLINES   OE   COSMIC   PHILOSOPHY. 

VOLUME  I. 


OUTLINES  OF  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY 

BASED  ON  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  EVOLUTION, 

WITH  CRITICISMS  ON  THE  POSITIVE 

PHILOSOPHY 


JOHN    FISKE 


L  'univers,  pour  qui  saurait  Vembrasser  (Tun  seul point  de  vue,  ne  serait,  s'ii  est  permis 
de  le  dire,  quunfa.it  unique  et  une  grande  verite.  —  D'Alembert 

Kal  rb  '6\ov  tovto  Sta  toSto  K  6<t  jxov  k<l\ovgiv,  ovk  a.Ko(Tfj.lav.  —  PLATO 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES 
VOLUME    I. 

NINTH   EDITION 


BOSTON   AND    NEW   YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN   AND  COMPANY 
tCfe  fiitoer.siDe  Pres&  CambriDge 
1887 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1874,  by 

JOHN  FISKE, 
Ln  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


To 
GEORGE   LITCH   ROBERTS, 

IN  REMEMBRANCE   OF 

THE    GOLDEN   DAYS  WHEN,   WITH  GENEROUS  AIMS  IN  COMMON. 

WE   STUDIED  PHILOSOPHY  TOGETHER, 

AND  IN   CONSECRATION   OF  THE   LIFELONG   FRIENDSHIP 

WHICH  HAS  BEEN 

AN  UNFAILING  SOURCE  OF  JOY  AND  STRENGTH 

TO  US  BOTH, 

31  ©e&icate  tttf  ISoofc. 


PREFACE. 

The  present  work  is  based  upon  lectures  given  at  Harvard 
University  in  the  autumn  of  1869  and  spring  of  1871,  and 
afterwards  repeated,  wholly  or  in  part,  in  Boston,  New  York, 
Milwaukee,  and  London. 

At  the  outset  these  lpctures  were  designed  to  include 
only  a  criticism  of  the  Positive  Philosophy,  and  I  had 
no  intention  of  publishing  them  in  anything  like  the 
shape  in  which  they  were  originally  written.  It  was 
only  when — at  the  suggestion  of  Dr.  E.  L.  Youmans,  and 
through  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Marble  —  the  lectures  were 
reported  in  the  New  York  World,  and  seemed  to  meet 
the  wants  of  a  large  number  of  readers,  that  I  decided 
upon  publishing  them,  and  upon  so  enlarging  the  course 
as  to  make  it  include  a  somewhat  complete  outline - 
sketch  of  the  new  philosophy  based  on  the  Doctrine  of 
Evolution.  In  coming  to  this  decision,  I  was  at  first  but 
carrying  out  a  project,  formed  several  years  earlier,  of 
writing  a  series  of  essays  illustrative  of  Mr.  Spencer's 
philosophy.  But  the  work  has  grown  on  my  hands,  and 
in  its  present  shape  is  something  more  than  it  was  originally 
intended  to  be.  For  while  it  does  not,  as  a  whole,  lay  any 
claim  to  the  character,  of  an  original  work,  it  has  never- 
theless come  to  contain  so  much  new  matter,  both  critical 
and  constructive,  that  it  can  no  longer  be  regarded  as  a  mere 
reproduction   of    Mr.   Spencer's   thoughts.      The  new  con- 


viii  PEE  FACE. 

Btructive  matter  begins  with  the  eigliteenth  chapter  of  Part 
II.,  which  (together  with  its  predecessor)  was  written  in 
1866,  and  which  leads  to  conclusions  concerning  the  relations 
of  a  social  community  to  its  environment,  such  as  will 
doubtless  be  much  more  thoroughly  and  satisfactorily  pre- 
sented by  Mr.  Spencer  in  his  forthcoming  work  on  Sociology. 
The  following  chapters  on  the  Genesis  of  Man,  along  with 
considerable  expository  and  critical  matter,  contain  a  theory 
as  to  the  part  taken  by  the  prolongation  of  human  infancy 
in  originating  social  evolution,  which  is  entirely  new  in 
all  its  features.  With  the  exception  of  numerous  minor 
suggestions  scattered  here  and  there  throughout  the  work, 
these  are  the  only  parts  of  the  constructive  matter  which  I 
can  claim  as  my  own;  though  it  may  be  interesting  to 
observe  that  the  chapter  on  the  Evolution  of  Mind  was 
mostly  written,  and  the  theory  contained  therein  entirely 
worked  out,  before  the  publication  of  Part  V.  of  the  second 
edition  of  Mr.  Spencer's  "  Principles  of  Psychology." 

The  new  critical  matter  is  mostly  to  be  found  in  the 
chapters  relating  to  religion,  and  in  the  discussion  of  the 
various  points  of  antagonism  between  the  philosophy  here 
expounded  and  the  Positive  Philosophy.  Though  the  real 
work  of  demolishing  the  undue  pretensions  of  Positivism 
had  already  been  well  accomplished  by  Mr.  Spencer,  most 
of  whose  arguments  are  here  reproduced,  it  seemed  to  me 
that  much  might  still  be  done  toward  clearing  up  the  dire 
confusion  with  which  in  the  popular  mind  this  subject 
is  surrounded ;  and  this  I  realized  the  more  keenly  as  it 
was  some  time  before  I  had  succeeded  in  getting  clear  of  the 
confusion  myself.  Accordingly  on  every  proper  occasion 
the  opinions  characteristic  of  the  Positive  Philosophy  are 
cited  and  criticized;  and  on  every  occasion  they  are  proved 
to  be  utterly  irreconcilable  with  the  opinions  characteristic 
of  Mr.  Spencer's  philosophy  and  adopted  in  this  work.     The 


PEE  FA  CH.  ix 

extravagant  claim  of  Positivism  to  stand  for  the  whole  of 
attainable  scientific  philosophy  is,  I  trust,  finally  disposed 
of  when  it  is  shown  that  a  system  of  philosophy  has  been 
constructed,  out  of  purely  scientific  materials  and  by  the 
employment  of  scientific  methods,  which  opposes  a  direct 
negative  to  every  one  of  the  theorems  of  which  Positivism 
is  made  up. 

The  phrase  "  Cosmic  Philosophy," x  by  which  I  have  pro- 
posed to  designate  this  system,  has  not  found  favour  with 
Mr.  Spencer,  who  urges  the  objection  that  all  philosophies 
whatever  may,  in  a  certain  sense,  be  termed  "Cosmic," 
inasmuch  as  all  philosophies  have  had  for  their  subject- 
matter  the  explanation  of  the  universe  or  Cosmos.,  In  this 
objection  there  would  no  doubt  be  much  weight  if  any 
alternative  term  could  be  proposed  which  should  be  ideally 
perfect.  As  it  is,  I  cannot  but  think  that  the  alternative 
term  suggested  by  Mr.  Spencer  is  open  to  a  parallel  objection 
of  at  least  equal  weight.  To  the  phrase  "  Synthetic  Philo- 
sophy," as  a  distinctive  epithet,  it  is  an  obvious  objection 
that  the  systems  of  Aquinas  and  Hegel,  and  other  systems 
built  up  by  the  aid  of  metaphysical  methods,  might  claim 
to  be  entitled  "  Synthetic "  as  well  as  the  system  of  Mr. 
Spencer.  So  far  as  this  goes,  therefore,  there  would  seem 
to  be  but  little  room  for  choice  between  the  two  terms.  But 
when  we  look  more  carefully  into  the  matter,  the  case  is  seen 
to  be  otherwise.  For  not  only  does  the  term  "Cosmic," 
when  regard  is  had  to  the  implications  of  its  primitive 
meaning,  convey  all  that  is  conveyed  by  the  term  "Syn- 
thetic," but  it  further  hits  the  precise  point  by  which  Mr. 
Spencer's  philosophy  is  fundamentally  distinguished  alike 
from  Positivism  and  from  all  ontological  systems.     For  the 

1  This  term  was  first  suggested  to  me  by  Mr.  Manton  Marble,  some  four 
yaars  ago,  though  at  that  time  neither  he  nor  I  could  have  appreciated  it  at  its 
full  value. 


x  PREFACE. 

term  "  Cosmos  "  connotes  the  orderly  succession  of  phenomena 
quite  as  forcibly  as  it  denotes  the  totality  of  phenomena ;  and 
with  anything  absolute  or  ontological,  with  anything  save 
the  "  Mundus "  or  orderly  world  of  phenomena,  it  has 
nothing  whatever  to  do.  So  that,  strictly  speaking,  no 
theological  system  of  philosophy  can  be  called  "Cosmic" 
while  admitting  miracle,  special-creation,  or  any  other  denial 
of  the  persistence  of  force,  into  its  scheme  of  things  ;  and 
no  ontological  system  can  be  called  "  Cosmic  "  while  pro- 
fessing to  deal  with  existence  not  included  within  the 
phenomenal  world.  The  term,  therefore,  forcibly  distin- 
guishes Mr.  Spencer's  philosophy  from  systems  which  have 
contained  ontological  or  theological  assumptions.  And,  on 
the  other  hand,  as  is  shown  below,  in  the  ninth  and 
tenth  chapters  of  Part  I.,  it  distinguishes  it  from  Positivism ; 
since  the  latter  philosophy  consists  of  an  Organon  of 
scientific  methods  ancillary  to  the  construction  of  a  system 
of  Sociology,  and  has  always  implicitly  denied  the  practical 
possibility  of  such  a  unified  doctrine  of  the  Cosmos  as 
Mr.  Spencer  has  succeeded  in  making.  In  short,  Mr. 
Spencer's  philosophy  is  not  merely  a  Synthesis,  but  it  is 
a  "  Cosmic  Synthesis ; "  that  is,  it  is  a  system  which,  without 
making  appeal  to  data  that  are  ontological  or  to  agencies 
that  are  extra-cosmic,  brings  all  known  truths  concerning 
the  coexistence  and  succession  of  phenomena  into  relation 
with  one  another  as  the  corollaries  of  a  single  primordial 
truth,  which  is  alleged  of  the  omnipresent  Existence  (ignored 
by  Positivism)  whereof  the  phenomenal  world  i»  the  multi- 
form manifestation.  To  no  other  system  yet  devised  can 
this  definition  be  strictly  applied ;  and  of  no  other  system 
can  we  strictly  say  that  it  is  "  Cosmic." 

Along  with  these  specific  advantages,  as  characterizing 
Mr.  Spencer's  system  of  philosophy,  the  term  "  Cosmic " 
and  its   congeners   possess  sundry  general   advantages,  as 


PREFACE.  xi 

characterizing  that  entire  method  or  habit  of  philosophizing 
of  which  Mr.  Spencer's  system  is  in  our  day  the  most 
conspicuous  product.  In  this  sense  I  have  contrasted 
,fCosmism,,  with  ^  Anthropomorphism "  as  two  different 
fashions  or  habits  of  interpreting  phenomena,  the  contrast 
being  more  specifically  carried  out,  in  the  concluding 
chapters  of  this  work,  between  "Cosmic  Theism"  and 
"  Anthropomorphic  Theism."  For  further  justification  and 
elucidation  I  must  refer  to  the  body  of  the  work,  where 
these  terms  are  introduced  and  defended  as  occasion 
requires.  In  view  of  all  that  is  thus  from  time  to  time 
brought  forward,  I  think  it  will  appear  that  a  more 
strikingly  characteristic  terminology  would  be  hard  to 
find,  or  one  in  which  so  great  a  number  of  kindred  dis- 
tinctions are  expressed  by  so  small  a  group  of  terms. 

But  while  it  is  incumbent  on  me  to  declare  Mr.  Spencer's 
disapproval  of  this  terminology,  it  should  be  added  that, 
so  far  as  I  know,  the  question  at  issue  between  us  is  purely 
a  question  of  nomenclature,  and  is  not  implicated  with  any 
essential  differences  of  opinion  as  to  the  character  and 
position  of  the  system  of  thought  to  which  .the  nomenclature 
is  applied.  Without  implying  that  Mr.  Spencer  should  be 
held  responsible  for  everything  that  is  maintained  in  the 
following  pages,  I  believe  that  the  system  here  expounded 
is  essentially  his,  and  that  such  supplementary  illustrations 
as  I  have  added  are  quite  in  harmony  with  the  fundamental 
principles  which  he  has  laid  down. 

Much  of  the  new  critical  matter  thus  appears  to  be 
concerned  with  questions  of  nomenclature  and  other  ques- 
tions which  hinge,  directly  or  remotely,  upon  these.  And 
considering  how  important  are  the  "counters  of  thought," 
and  how  often  they  are  made  to  do  duty  as  its  hard  money, 
it  will  perhaps  be  felt  that  too  much  emphasis  has  not  been 
laid  upon  these  points.     The  rest  of  the  new  critical  matter, 


xii  PREFACE. 

as  before  hinted,  occurs  in  Part  III.,  where  it  is  attempted 
to  show  that  the  hostility  between  Science  and  Religion, 
about  which  so  much  is  talked  and  written,  is  purely  a 
chimera  of  the  imagination.  Putting  the  case  into  other 
language,  it  may  be  said  that  to  assert  a  radical  hostility 
between  our  Knowledge  and  our  Aspirations,  is  to  postulate 
such  a  fundamental  viciousness  in  the  constitution  of  things 
as  the  evolutionist,  at  least,  is  in  no  wise  bound  to  acknow- 
ledge. The  real  conflict,  as  I  have  sought  to  show,  is  not 
between  Knowledge  and  Aspiration,  but  between  the  less- 
imperfect  knowledge  of  any  given  age  and  the  more-imperfect 
knowledge  of  the  age  which  has  gone  before.  For  it  lies  in 
the  nature  of  progress  that  the  heresy  or  new-knowledge  of 
yesterday  is  the  orthodoxy  or  old-knowledge  of  to-day, 
and  that  to  those  who  have  learned  to  associate  their 
aspirations  with  the  old  knowledge  it  may  well  seem  im- 
possible that  like  aspirations  should  be  associated  with  the 
new.  But  the  experience  of  many  ages  of  speculative 
revolution  has  shown  that  while  Knowledge  grows  and  old 
beliefs  fall  away  and  creed  succeeds  to  creed,  nevertheless 
that  Faith  which  makes  the  innermost  essence  of  religion 
is  indestructible.  Were  it  not  for  the  steadfast  conviction 
that  this  is  so,  what  could  sustain  us  in  dealing  with 
questions  so  mighty  and  so  awful  that  one  is  sometimes 
fain  to  shrink  from  facing  their  full  import,  lest  the  mind 
be  overwhelmed  and  forever  paralyzed  by  the  sense  of  its 
nothingness  ? 


Teniob,  April  16,  1874. 


CONTENTS. 

PART  I. 

PROLEGOMENA. 

CHAPTER  L 

Vial 
THE  RELATIVITY  OF  KNOWLEDGE       ..••••••••••  8 

CHAPTER  IL 

THE  SCOPE  OF  PHILOSOPHY •••••••••        22 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE  TEST  OF  TRUTH •••••••        45 

CHAPTER  IV. 

PHENOMENON  AND  NODMENON   .............    72 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE  SUBJECTIVE  AND   OBJECTIVE  METHODS     ■••••••«•         07 

CHAPTER  VI. 

CAUSATION    •••••• • 146 


tir  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

PAO*. 
ANTHROPOMORPHISM  AND  OOSMISM 102 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

ORGANIZATION   OF  TUB  SCIENCES  .      .     • 18? 

CHAPTER   IX. 

PHILOSOPHY  AS   AN   ORGANON • 234 

CHAPTER  X. 

COSMISM  AND  POSITIVISM 255 

CHAPTER  XT. 

THE  QUESTION  STATED    ................      265 


PART  IX 

SYNTHESIS. 

CHAPTER  I. 

MATTER,    MOTION,   AND   FORCE 279 

CHAPTER  II. 

RHYTZM 297 

CHAPTER  III. 

EVOLUTION   AND   DISSOLUTION 314 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  LAW   OF  EVOLUTION 326 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTEr.  V. 

PAOB 

PLANETARY  EVOLUTION •••..  ,,      356 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  THE  EARTH ......   398 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   SOURCES   OF  TERRESTRIAL  ENERGY 406 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  LIFE     .••••••••« 418 

CHAPTER  IX. 

BfECIAL-CREATION  OT  DERIVATION?  ..••••••••••      438 


PART  I. 

PROLEGOMENA. 

'*  Quare  speculatio  ilia  Parmenidis  et  Platonis,  quamvis  in  illis  ntida  fuent 
speculatio,  excelluit  tamen  :  Omnia  per  scalam  quandam  ad  unitatem  ascen- 
dere." — Bacon. 

"Das  schonste  Gluck  des  denkenden  Menschen  ist  das  Erforschliche 
erforscht  zu  haben,  und  das  Unerforschliche  ruhig  zu  verehren." — Goethe. 


vol.  i  e 


CHAPTER  L 

THE   EELATIVITY   OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

When  we  contemplate  any  portion  of  matter,  such  as  a 
cubical  block  of  metal  or  wood,  it  appears  to  our  senses  to  be 
perfectly  solid.  No  breach  of  continuity  appearing  anywhere 
among  the  aggregate  of  visual  and  tactual  perceptions  which 
its  presence  awakens  in  us,  we  are  unable  to  restrain  ourselves 
from  imagining  that  its  parts  are  everywhere  in  actual  contact 
with  each  other.  Nevertheless,  a  brief  analysis  of  this  opinion 
will  suffice  to  show  that  it  cannot  be  maintained  without 
landing  us  in  manifest  absurdity.  We  need  only  recollect 
that  every  portion  of  matter  is  compressible, — may  be  made 
to  occupy  less  space  than  before, — and  that  compressibility, 
implying  the  closer  approach  of  the  constituent  particles  of 
the  body,  is  utterly  out  of  the  question,  unless  empty  space 
exists  between  these  particles.  We  are  therefore  obliged  to 
admit  that  the  molecules  of  which  perceptible  matter  is  com- 
posed, are  not  in  immediate  contact,  but  are  separated  from 
each  other  by  enveloping  tracts  of  unoccupied  space. 

But  no  sooner  do  we  seek  refuge  in  this  assumption  than 
we  are  again  met  by  difficulties  no  less  insuperable  than  the 
one  just  noticed.  The  form  of  our  experience  of  all  objects 
compels  us  to  postulate  that  cohesive  or  gravitative  forces 
are  continually  urging  the  particles  of  matter  toward  closer 

B  2 


4  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [w.  '• 

union,  while  disruptive  or  thermal  forces  are  continually  urg- 
ing them  toward  wider  separation.  In  view  of  this,  suppose 
we  regard  matter,  with  Newton,  as  consisting  of  solid  atoms, 
never  absolutely  contiguous  to  each  other,  but  always  attract- 
ing or  repelling  each  other  with  a  force  varying  inversely  as 
the  squares  of  the  distances  between  the  atoms. 

What  then  is  the  constitution  of  these  hypothetical 
atoms  ?  Are  they  divisible,  or  indivisible  ?  And  if  divisible, 
what  shall  we  say  of  the  parts  into  which  they  are  divided  ? 
Can  these  be  again  divided,  and  so  on  for  ever  ?  If  we  say 
yes,  we  are  speedily  brought  face  to  face  with  a  double  in- 
conceivability. For,  on  the  one  hand,  by  no  effort  of  thought 
can  we  conceive  the  infinite  divisibility  of  a  particle  of 
matter.  Mentally  to  represent  any  such  division  would 
require  infinite  time.  On  the  other  hand,  granting  that  the 
particles  which  we  have  postulated  as  the  component  units 
of  matter  are  divisible,  we  have  not  escaped  the  difficulty 
which  confronted  us  at  the  outset.  For  each  of  these 
particles,  if  divisible,  is  a  piece  of  matter  just  like  the  block 
of  metal  or  wood  with  which  we  set  out, — only  smaller  in 
size.  The  particles  of  these  particles  cannot,  as  we  have 
seen,  be  in  direct  contact ;  then  they  must  each  be  com- 
posed of  several  particles  not  in  contact,  but  exerting  on 
each  other  attractive  and  repulsive  forces  that  vary  inversely 
with  the  squares  of  their  distances  apart ;  and  again  we 
have  to  ask  of  these  particles,  Are  they  divisible  or  indi- 
visible? and  so  on,  for  ev^r. 

Such  are  the  difficulties  into  which  we  are  led  if  we 
assume  that  the  atoms  of  which  matter  is  composed  are 
divisible.  Let  us  now  assume  that  (as  their  name  implies) 
they  are  indivisible.  And  this  is,  no  doubt,  the  assumption 
which  is  most  congruous  with  the  experiences  of  the  chemist. 
Yet  we  shall  find  that  an  absolutely  indivisible  atom  is  quite 
inconceivable  by  human  intelligence.  Every  such  atom,  if  it 
exists,  must  have  an  upper  side  and  an  under  side,  a  right  side 


ch.  i.]  THE  RELATIVITY  OF  KNOWLEDGE.  5 

and  a  left  side,  or  if  spherical,  must  have  a  periphery  that  is 
conceived  as  covering  some  assignable  area.  Now  by  no  effort 
of  our  intelligence  can  we  imagine  sides  so  close  together 
that  no  plane  of  cleavage  can  pass  between  them ;  nor  can 
we  imagine  a  sphere  so  minute  that  it  cannot  be  conceived  as 
divisible  into  hemispheres  ;  nor  can  we  imagine  a  cohesive 
tenacity  so  great  that  it  might  not  be  overcome  by  some  still 
greater  disruptive  force  such  as  we  can  equally  well  imagine. 

When  we  contemplate  the  mode  in  which  one  particle  of 
matter  acts  upon  the  adjacent  particles  by  attractive  and 
repulsive  forces,  we  find  ourselves  equally  puzzled.  As  Mr. 
Spencer  well  observes,  "  matter  cannot  be  conceived  except 
as  manifesting  forces  of  attraction  and  repulsion.  Body  is 
distinguished  in  our  consciousness  from  space,  by  its  opposi- 
tion to  our  muscular  energies  ;  and  this  opposition  we  feel 
under  the  twofold  form  of  a  cohesion  that  hinders  our  efforts 
to  rend,  and  a  resistance  that  hinders  our  efforts  to  compress. 
Without  resistance  there  can  be  merely  empty  extension. 
Without  cohesion  there  can  be  no  resistance.  Thus  we  are 
obliged  to  think  of  all  objects  as  made  up  of  parts  that 
attract  and  repel  each  other ;  since  this  is  the  form  of  our 
experience  of  all  objects.  Nevertheless,  however  verbally 
intelligible  may  be  the  proposition  that  pressure  and  tension 
everywhere  co-exist,  yet  we  cannot  truly  represent  to  ourselves 
one  ultimate  unit  of  matter  as  drawing  another  while  re- 
sisting it." 

Nor  is  this  the  last  of  the  difficulties  which  encumber 
our  hypothesis  of  mutually-attracting  and  repelling  particles 
separated  by  tracts  of  unoccupied  space.  For  this  hypothesis 
requires  us  to  conceive  one  particle  acting  upon  another 
through  a  space  that  is  utterly  empty ;  and  we  can  in  no 
wise  conceive  any  such  action  ?  How  shall  we  escape  this 
difficulty  ?  Shall  we  assume  that  the  intervals  between 
the  particles  are  filled  by  a  fluid  of  excessive  tenuity,  like 
the  so-called  imponderable  ether  to  which  physicists  are  in 


f  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

the  habit  of  appealing?  We  shall  soon  find  that  the 
problem  is  only  shifted.  As  soon  as  we  inquire  into  the 
constitution  of  this  hypothetical  intermolecular  fluid,  we  are 
no  better  off  than  before.  For  we  have  no  alternative  but 
to  regard  this  fluid  as  itself  an  extremely  rarefied  form  of 
matter :  since  it  does  not  perceptibly  affect  the  weights  of 
bodies,  we  must  regard  it  as  possessed  of  a  density  that  is 
almost  infinitesimal, — that  is,  its  constituent  particles  must 
be  separated  from  each  other  by  regions  of  empty  space  that 
are  even  greater  in  proportion  to  the  size  of  the  particles 
than  are  the  spaces  that  intervene  between  the  molecules  of 
that  relatively  dense  form  of  matter  which  we  call  ponder- 
able. With  regard  to  the  ether,  as  before  with  regard  to  the 
matter,  we  have  to  ask,  How  can  its  particles  act  upon  each 
other  through  space  that  is  utterly  empty  ?  How  can  a  thing 
act  where  it  is  not  ?  How  can  motion  be  transmitted,  in  the 
absence  of  any  medium  of  transmission  ?  and  to  this  question 
no  answer  ever  has  been,  or  ever  can  be  devised. 

Thus,  whichever  horn  of  the  dilemma  we  take  hold  of,  we 
are  sure  to  be  gored  by  it.  Whether  we  assume  on  the  one 
hand  that  matter  is  absolutely  solid,  or  on  the  other  hand 
that  it  is  absolutely  porous,  we  are  alike  brought  face  to 
face  with  questions  which  we  can  neither  solve  nor  elude. 

If  now  we  turn  from  the  inquiry  into  the  ultimate  constitu- 
tion of  that  matter  out  of  which  the  universe  is  formed,  and 
inquire  what  was  the  origin  of  this  universe,  we  shall  find 
ourselves  plunged  into  still  darker  regions  of  incomprehen- 
sibility. Eespecting  the  origin  of  the  universe  three  verbally- 
intelligible  hypotheses  may  be  formed.  We  may  say,  with 
the  Atheist,  that  the  universe  is  self-existing ;  or,  with  the 
Pantheist,  that  it  is  self-created ;  or,  with  the  Theist,  that  it  is 
created  by  an  external  agency.  Let  us  examine  these  three 
propositions  severally,  not  with  the  view  of  determining 
which  of  them  is  true,  but  with  the  view  of  determining 
whether  any  one  of  them  is  comprehensible. 


ch.  i.]  THE  RELATIVITY  OF  KNOWLEDGE.  7 

Philosophically  speaking,  then,  we  must  admit  that, 
whether  or  not  the  Atheistic  hypothesis  of  a  self-existent 
universe  be  assumed  as  true,  it  is  at  any  rate  incomprehen- 
sible. We  can  form  no  genuine  conception  answering  to  the 
phrase  "self-existence."  For  by  self-existence  we  clearly 
mean  existence  which  is  not  dependent  on  any  extraneous 
existence ;  which  is  not  conditioned  or  determined  by  any 
cause.  The  assertion  of  self-existence  is  the  denial  of  causa- 
tion ;  and  when  we  deny  causation  we  also  deny  commence- 
ment, inasmuch  as  to  suppose  that  there  was  a  time  when 
the  existence  commenced  is  to  admit  that  the  commencement 
of  the  existence  was  determined  by  some  cause ;  which  is 
contrary  to  our  hypothesis.  In  order,  therefore,  to  conceive 
self-existence,  we  must  conceive  existence  throughout  infinite 
past  time  ;  and  to  do  this  manifestly  exceeds  our  powers, 
i  The  Pantheistic  hypothesis  of  self-creation  is  similarly  in- 
comprehensible. Self-creation,  equally  with  self- existence, 
excludes  the  idea  of  any  extraneous  determining  cause.  If 
the  passage  of  the  universe  from  non-existence,  or  from 
potential  existence,  into  actual  existence,  were  determined  by 
any  extrinsic  cause,  manifestly  it  would  not  be  self-created. 
Nevertheless,  to  suppose  that  existence,  after  remaining  for  a 
long  period  in  one  form,  suddenly  took  on  of  its  own  accord 
another  form,  requires  us  to  imagine  a  change  without  any 
cause, — which  is  impossible. 

Of  the  Theistic  hypothesis,  also,  we  must  perforce  admit, 
that,  whatever  may  be  urged  in  favour  of  our  accepting  it  as 
a  help  to  our  thinking,  it  is  no  less  incomprehensible  than 
the  other  two.  In  the  first  place,  the  creation  of  something 
out  of  nothing  is  a  process  which  we  are  wholly  incapable  of 
representing  in  thought.  In  the  second  place,  granting  that 
the  universe  was  made  from  nothing  by  an  external  agency, 
we  are  compelled  to  ask  whence  came  this  agency?  We 
must  either  admit  for  it  another  extrinsic  cause  still  further 
back,  and  so  on  for   ever;   or  we  must  regard  it   as  self- 


8  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

existing,  in  which  case  we  are  again  brought  face  to  face  with 
the  same  ultimate  difficulties  which  attend  upon  the  atheistic 
hypothesis.  For,  as  Mr.  F.  W.  Newman  observes,  "  a  God 
uncaused  and  existing  from  eternity  is  quite  as  incomprehen- 
sible as  a  world  uncaused  and  existing  from  eternity."  Which 
conception  is  the  more  likely  to  be  true,  I  repeat,  does  not 
for  the  present  concern  us.  What  we  have  now  to  notice  is 
merely  the  incapacity  of  the  human  intellect  for  realizing 
either  the  one  or  the  other.  In  spite  of  their  great  apparent 
diversity,  the  atheistic,  pantheistic  and  theistic  hypotheses 
all  contain,  in  one  form  or  another,  the  same  fundamental 
assumption.  Sooner  or  later  they  all  require  us  to  conceive 
some  form  of  existence  which  has  had  neither  cause  nor 
beginning  ;  and  to  do  this  is  impossible. 

Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  the  impossibility  of  conceiving 
it,  this  fundamental  assumption  is  one  which  we  are  com- 
pelled to  adopt,  unless  we  abstain  from  theorizing  altogether 
upon  the  subject.  For  it  is  impossible  to  enter  into  any 
inquiry  concerning  causation  without  eventually  postulating 
some  First  Cause.  We  are  obliged  to  do  so  from  sheer 
inability  to  follow  out  in  thought  an  infinite  series  of  causes. 

Assuming,  then,  the  existence  of  a  First  Cause,  let  us 
inquire  for  a  moment  into  its  nature.  The  First  Cause  must 
be  infinite.  For  if  we  regard  it  as  finite,  we  regard  it  as 
bounded  or  limited,  and  are  thus  compelled  to  think  of  a 
region  beyond  its  limits,  which  region  is  uncaused.  And  if 
we  admit  this,  we  virtually  abandon  the  doctrine  of  causa- 
tion altogether.  We  therefore  have  no  alternative  but  to 
regard  the  First  Cause  as  infinite. 

We  are  no  less  irresistibly  compelled  to  regard  the  First 
Cause  as  independent.  For  if  it  be  dependent,  that  on 
which  it  depends  must  be  the  First  Cause.  The  First  Cause 
can  therefore  have  no  necessary  relation  to  any  other  form 
of  Being ;  since  if  the  presence  of  any  other  form  of 
existence  is  necessary  to  its   completeness,   it  is   partially 


*h.  1.1  THE  RELATIVITY  OF  KNOWLEDGE.  9 

dependent  upon  such  other  form  of  existence,  and  cannot  be 
the  First  Cause.  Thus  the  First  Cause,  besides  being  infinite 
must  be  complete  in  itself,  existing  independently  of  all 
relations, — that  is,  it  must  be  absolute. 

To  such  conclusions,  following  the  most  refined  meta- 
physical philosophy  of  the  day,  are  we  easily  led.  By  the 
very  limitations  of  our  faculties,  we  are  compelled  to  think 
of  a  First  Cause  of  all  phenomena ;  and  we  are  compelled  to 
think  of  it  as  both  infinite  and  absolute. 

Nevertheless,  it  will  not  be  difficult  to  show  that  such  a 
conclusion  is  utterly  illusive;  and  that  in  joining  together  the 
three  conceptions  of  Cause,  of  Infinite,  and  of  Absolute,  we 
have  woven  for  ourselves  a  network  of  contradictions  more 
formidable,  more  disheartening  than  any  that  we  have  yet 
been  required  to  contemplate. 

For,  in  the  first  place,  that  which  is  a  cause  cannot  at  the 
same  time  be  absolute.  For  the  definition  of  the  Absolute  is 
that  which  exists  out  of  all  relations ;  whereas  a  cause  not 
only  sustains  some  definite  relation  to  its  effect,  but  it  exists, 
as  a  cause,  only  by  virtue  of  such  relation.  Suppress  the 
effect,  and  the  cause  has  ceased  to  be  a  cause.  The  phrase 
"  Absolute  Cause,"  therefore,  which  is  equivalent  to  "  non- 
relative  Cause,"  is  like  the  phrase  "  circular  triangle."  The 
two  words  stand  for  conceptions  which  cannot  be  made  to 
unite.  "  We  attempt,"  says  Mr.  Mansel,  "  to  escape  from  this 
apparent  contradiction  by  introducing  the  idea  of  succession 
in  time.  The  Absolute  exists  first  by  itself,  and  afterwards 
becomes  a  Cause.  But  here  we  are  checked  by  the  third 
conception,  that  of  the  Infinite.  How  can  the  Infinite 
become  that  which  it  was  not  from  the  first  ?  If  causation 
is  a  possible  mode  of  existence,  that  which  exists  without 
causing  is  not  infinite ;  that  which  becomes  a  cause  has 
passed  beyond  its  former  limits." 

But  supposing  all  these  obstacles  overcome,  so  that  we 
might  frame  a  valid  conception  of  a  Cause  which  is  also 


10  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  i. 

Absolute  and  Infinite :  have  we  then  explained  the  origin  of 
the  universe  ?  Have  we  advanced  one  step  toward  explaining 
how  the  Absolute  can  be  the  source  of  the  Relative,  or  how 
the  Infinite  can  give  rise  to  the  Finite?  To  continue  with 
Mr.  Mansel,  "  if  the  condition  of  causal  activity  is  a  higher 

state   than    that   of    quiescence,   the   Absolute has 

passed  from  a  condition  of  comparative  imperfection  to  one 
of  comparative  perfection ;  and  therefore  was  not  originally 
perfect.  If  the  state  of  activity  is  an  inferior  state  to  that 
of  quiescence,  the  Absolute,  in  becoming  a  cause,  has  lost  its 
original  perfection.  There  remains  only  the  supposition  that 
the  two  states  are  equal,  and  the  act  of  creation  one  of  com- 
plete indifference.  But  this  supposition  annihilates  the 
unity  of  the  Absolute." 

These  examples  must  suffice  for  my  present  purpose,  which 
is  to  illustrate  and  enforce,  at  the  beginning  of  our  investiga- 
tion, the  doctrine  of  the  Relativity  of  Knowledge.  They 
constitute  but  a  small,  though  an  important,  portion  of  the 
mass  of  evidence  which  might  be  alleged.  The  history  of 
metaphysical  speculation — if  we  leave  out  of  the  account  all 
psychological  inquiry,  which  is  a  very  different  matter — is 
little  else  than  the  history  of  a  series  of  persistent  attempts 
to  frame  tenable  hypotheses  concerning  the  origin  of  the 
universe,  the  nature  of  its  First  Cause,  and  the  ultimate  con- 
stitution of  the  matter  which  it  contains.  History  teaches 
us  that  all  such  attempts  have  failed ;  and  furnishes  us  with 
ample  inductive  or  empirical  evidence  that  the  human  mind 
is  incapable  of  attaining  satisfactory  conclusions  concerning 
the  First  Cause,  the  Infinite,  the  Absolute,  or  the  intimate 
nature  of  things.  We  accordingly  say  for  brevity's  sake  that 
we  cannot  know  the  Absolute,  but  only  the  Relative  ;  and  in 
saying  so,  we  implicitly  assert  two  practical  conclusions : — 

First,  we  cannot  know  things  as  they  exist  independently 
of  our  intelligence,  but  only  as  they  exist  in  relation  to  out 
intelligence. 


uh.  I.]  THE  RELATIVITY  OF  KNOWLEDGE.  11 

Secondly,  the  possibilities  of  thought  are  not  identical  or 
coextensive  with  the  possibilities  of  things.  A  proposition 
is  not  necessarily  true  because  we  can  clearly  conceive  its 
terms ;  nor  is  a  proposition  necessarily  untrue  because  it 
contains  terms  which  are  to  us  inconceivable.1 

This  great  truth,  which  I  have  thus  illustrated  by  a  few 
empirical  examples,  must  now  be  illustrated  deductively.  It 
must  be  shown  how  the  impossibility  of  knowing  or  con- 
ceiving anything  save  the  Eelative  results  from  the  very 
constitution  of  our  minds — from  the  very  manner  in  which 
our  thinking  takes  place.  And  this  may  be  shown  by  several 
distinct  lines  of  argument. 

In  the  first  place,  all  knowing  is  classifying.  What  do  we 
mean  when  we  say  that  any  given  phenomenon  has  been 
explained  ?  We  mean  simply  that  it  has  been  ranked  along 
with  similar  phenomena  which,  having  previously  been 
grouped  together,  are  said  to  be  understood.  For  example, 
in  walking  out  some  clear  November  evening,  your  attention 
is  arrested  by  a  bright,  but  suddenly  vanishing  track  of  light 
across  the  sky,  which  you  recognize  as  the  appearance  ol 
a  "  falling-star."  In  doubt,  perhaps,  as  to  the  true  explana- 
tion of  this  phenomenon,  you  appeal  to  some  astronomer,  who 
tells  you  that  a  zone  of  planetary  matter  encircles  the  sun  ; 
that  the  course  of  this  zone,  lying  near  the  course  of  the 
earth's  orbit  and  not  being  concentric  with  it,  must  intersect 
it  at  sundry  points  ;  and  that  when,  at  certain  seasons  of  the 

1  Hence,  as  will  appear  more  fully  hereafter,  we  have  no  criterion  of  abso- 
lute or  objective  truth.  But  it  will  also  appear  that,  in  the  realm  of  pheno- 
mena, with  which  alone  are  we  practically  concerned  in  forming  the  conclu- 
sions which  make  up  our  common-sense,  our  science,  and  our  philosophy, 
we  do  possess  a  valid  criterion  of  relative  truth  in  the  test  of  inconceiv- 
ability. A  proposition  concerning  phenomena,  which  contains  an  incon- 
ceivable term,  is  ipso  facto  a  proposition  without  a  basis  in  cur  experience  of 
phenomena,  and  is  accordingly  inadmissible.  But  a  proposition  concerning 
noumena,  which  contains  an  inconceivable  term,  is  entirely  out  of  relation 
with  experience,  since  we  have  no  experience  of  noumena ;  and  we  have 
accordingly  no  means  of  judging  whether  it  is  true  or  noi.  This  is  ^vhat  is 
meant  by  the  statement  in  the  text. 


12  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

vear,  such  intersection  occurs,  the  gravitattve  force  of    the 
earth  pulls  down  some  of  the  fragments  constituting  this 
zone,  and  unites  them  with  its  own  mass.     That  is  to  say,  he 
ranks  the  phenomenon  which  is  to  be  explained  along  with 
the  more  familiar  phenomena  of  heavy  bodies  which  circulate 
about  a  vast  central  mass,  and  which,  by  their  gravitativc 
power,  draw  to  themselves  whatsoever  comes  within  a  certain 
distance  of  them.     And  this  you  feel  to  be  a  perfectly  satis- 
factory explanation.     Similarly,  when  Newton  explained  the 
manner  in  which  these  planets  are  kept  revolving  about  the 
sun,  he  had  recourse  to   the  hypotheses  of  gravitation  and 
tangential   momentum.      By    the   former   he    classified  the 
unknown  force  which  kesps  the  moon  from  flying  away  from 
the  earth  along   with  the  familiar  force  which  causes  un- 
supported terrestrial  bodies  to  fall  toward  the  earth's  centre. 
By  the  latter  he  classified  the  unknown  force  which  keeps 
the  moon  from  tumbling  down  upon  the  earth  along  with  the 
familiar  force  which  urges  a  stone  whirled  at  a  sling's-end  to 
fly  away  upon  a  tangent.     In  each  case  he  did  nothing  but 
classify  phenomena  which  had  hitherto  remained  unclassified  ; 
and  this  was  rightly  felt  to  be  a  triumphant  explanation ; 
although  the  ultimate  nature  of  the  forces  operating  remained 
as  mysterious  as  before. 

If  now  we  proceed  still  further,  and  ask  in  what  sense  the 
force  which  makes  apples  fall  can  be  regarded  as  known  by 
us,  —we  can  only  reply,  it  is  not  known  in  itself,  but  only 
in  its  manifestations  throughout  a  number  of  phenomena 
which  can  be  classed  together,  and  any  one  of  which  is  said 
to  be  known  when  it  is  perceived  to  be  like  its  congeners 
previously  presented  to  our  consciousness.  We  know  a 
thing  only  when  we  classify  it  in  thought  with  some  other 
thing;  only  when  we  see  it  to  be  like  some  other  thing. 
In  short,  cognition  is  possible  only  through  recognition.  In 
the  infant,  we  may  see  that  there  are  no  cognitions  until  the 
feelings  awakened  by  the  presence  of  external  objects  have 


ch.  I.]  THE  RELATIVITY  OF  KNOWLEDGE.  13 

been  arranged  into  groups,  so  that  when  certain  sensations 
occur  they  may  be  recognized  as  belonging  to  such  or  such 
a  group.  And  in  the  adult,  as  our  examples  already  cited 
suffice  to  show  us,  an  object  is  known  just  in  so  far  as  the 
impressions  which  it  produces  upon  lis  can  be  assimilated 
to  previous  impressions.  Or  if  this  is  still  not  perfectly 
clear,  a  brief  citation  from  Mr.  Spencer  will  make  it  clear. 
"An  animal  hitherto  unknown,  though  not  referable  to  any 
established  species  or  genus,  is  yet  recognized  as  belonging 
to  one  of  the  larger  divisions — mammals,  birds,  reptiles,  or 
fishes ;  or  should  it  be  so  anomalous  that  its  alliance  with 
any  of  these  is  not  determinable,  it  may  yet  be  classed  as 
vertebrate  or  invertebrate ;  or  if  it  be  one  of  those  organisms 
of  which  it  is  doubtful  whether  the  animal  or  vegetal  char- 
acteristics predominate,  it  is  still  known  as  a  living  body ; 
even  should  it  be  questioned  whether  it  is  organic,  it  remains 
beyond  question  that  it  is  a  material  object,  and  it  is  cognized 
by  being  recognized  as  such.  Whence  it  is  manifest  that  a 
thing  is  perfectly  known  only  when  it  is  in  all  respects  like 
certain  things  previously  observed ;  that  in  proportion  to  the 
number  of  respects  in  which  it  is  unlike  them,  is  the  extent 
to  which  it  is  unknown ;  and  that  hence  when  it  has  abso- 
lutely no  attribute  in  common  with  anything  else,  it  must 
be  absolutely  beyond  the  bounds  of  knowledge." x 

The  bearing  of  all  this  upon  our  main  thesis  is  so  obvious 
as  to  need  but  the  briefest  mention.  Manifestly  the  First 
Cause,  the  Infinite,  the  Absolute,  can  be  known  only  by 
being  classified.  We  can  conceive  it  at  all  only  by  conceiving 
it  as  of  such  or  such  kind — as  like  this  or  that  which  we 
have  already  conceived.  There  can  be  but  one  First  Cause ; 
and  this,  being  uncaused,  cannot  be  classified  with  any  of 
the  multiplicity  of  things  which  are  caused.  The  Infinite, 
again,  cannot  be  conceived  as  like  the  Finite ;  nor  can  it  be 
classed  with  any  other  Infinite,  since  two  Infinites,  by  mutu- 

*  First  Principles,  p,  80. 


14  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

ally  limiting  each  other,  would  become  finite,  and  thus 
destroy  each  other.  And  likewise  the  Absolute  cannot, 
without  a  manifest  contradiction  in  terms,  be  regarded  as 
sustaining  a  relation  of  likeness  to  anything  else.  For  by  the 
definition  of  the  Absolute,  it  is  that  which  exists  out  of  all 
relation.  Thus  by  the  very  constitution  of  the  knoTvdng  pro- 
cess, we  are  for  ever  debarred  from  knowing  anything  save 
that  which  is  caused,  which  is  finite,  and  which  is  relative. 

If  we  start  from  another  point  of  view,  and  contemplate 
the  process  of  knowing  under  a  different  but  correlative 
aspect,  we  shall  be  driven  to  the  same  inevitable  conclusion. 
In  order  to  know  anything,  we  must  not  only  recognize  it  as 
like  certain  other  things,  but  we  must  recognize  it  also  as 
different  from  certain  other  things.  We  cognize  whiteness, 
not  only  by  its  likeness  to  the  whiteness  previously  presented 
to  our  consciousness,  but  also  by  its  difference  from  redness, 
blueness,  or  blackness.  If  all  things  were  white  we  should 
have  no  knowledge  of  whiteness.  To  constitute  an  act  of 
cognition,  distinction  is  as  necessary  as  assimilation.  As 
Mr.  Mansel  has  ably  shown,  "The  very  conception  of  con- 
sciousness necessarily  implies  distinction  between  one  object 
and  another.  To  be  conscious,  we  must  be  conscious  of 
something ;  and  that  something  can  only  be  known  as  that 
which  it  is,  by  being  distinguished  from  that  which  it  is  not. 
But  distinction  is  necessarily  limitation ;  for  if  one  object 
is  to  be  distinguished  from  another,  it  must  possess  some 
form  of  existence  which  the  other  has  not,  or  it  must  not 
possess  some  form  which  the  other  has."  Accordingly,  if  we 
are  to  conceive  the  First  Cause  at  all,  we  must  conceive  it 
as  limited ;  in  which  case  it  cannot  be  infinite :  and  we  must 
conceive  it  as  different  from  other  objects  of  cognition;  in 
which  case  it  is  relative,  and  cannot  be  absolute. 

Finally,  we  cannot  know  the  Absolute,  because  all  know- 
ledge is  possible  only  in  the  form  of  a  relation.  There  must 
be  a  Subject  which  cognizes  and  an  Object  which  is  cognized. 


oh.  I.J  THE  RELATIVITY  OF  KNOWLEDGE.  J5 

The  subject  is  a  subject  only  in  so  far  as  it  cognizes  the 
object,  and  the  object  is  an  object  only  in  so  far  as  it  is 
cognized  by  the  subject.  Eliminate  either  one,  and  the  act 
of  cognition  is  destroyed.  Hence  the  Absolute,  if  it  is  to 
be  known,  must  be  an  object  existing  in  relation  to  a  subject; 
it  cannot  be  known  in  itself,  but  only  in  its  relations  to  the 
knowing  mind ;  that  is,  it  can  be  known  only  by  ceasing  to 
be  the  Absolute. 

Thus  by  whatever  road  we  travel,  we  are  brought  up  at 
last  against  the  same  impassable  barrier.  By  no  power  of 
conception  or  subtilty  of  reasoning  can  we  break  down  or 
undermine  the  eternal  wall  which  divides  us  from  the  know- 
ledge of  things  in  themselves.  If  we  attempt  to  frame  any 
hypothesis  concerning  their  nature,  origin,  or  modes  of  action, 
we  find  ourselves  speedily  checkmated  by  alternative  im- 
possibilities. And  if,  resting  in  despair  after  all  our  efforts 
have  proved  fruitless,  we  inquire  why  this  is  so,  we  find  that 
from  the  very  organisation  of  our  minds,  we  can  frame  no 
cognition  into  which  there  do  not  enter  the  elements  of 
likeness,  difference,  and  relation;  so  that  the  Absolute,  which 
presents  none  of  these  elements,  is  utterly  and  for  ever 
unknowable. 

What  is  the  meaning  of  this  conclusion,  when  translated 
from  the  metaphysical  language  in  which  I  have  expressed 
it,  into  language  that  is  somewhat  more  familiar?  It  means 
not  only  that  the  Deity,  in  so  far  as  absolute  and  infinite, 
is  inscrutable  by  us,  and  that  every  hypothesis  of  ours 
concerning  its  nature  and  attributes,  can  serve  only  to  illus 
trate  our  mental  impotence ;  but  it  also  means  much  more 
than  this.  It  means  that  the  Universe  in  itself  is  likewise 
inscrutable ;  that  the  vast  synthesis  of  forces  without  us, 
which  in  manifold  contact  with  us  is  from  infancy  till  the 
close  of  life  continually  arousing  us  to  perceptive  activity 
can  never  be  known  by  us  as  it  exists  objectively,  but  only 
as  it  affects  our  consciousness.     It  means,  in  short,  that  we 


16  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  L 

cannot  transcend  the  organically-imposed  limits  of  our  own 
intelligence.  We  do  not  know  matter,  but  we  know  a  group 
of  coexistent  states  of  consciousness  which  we  call  the 
perceptions  of  resistance,  extension  and  colour,  sound  or 
odour.  We  do  not  know  motion,  but  we  know  the  group 
of  sequent  states  of  consciousness  produced  by  minute  alter- 
ations in  the  muscles  of  the  eyes,  or  perhaps  of  the  tactual 
organs,  in  the  act  of  attending  to  the  moving  object.  Nor 
do  we  know  force,  but  we  know  continual  modifications  of 
our  consciousness  which  we  are  compelled  to  regard  as  the 
manifestations  of  force.  Nor  do  we  even  know  consciousness 
absolutely  and  in  itself:  we  know  only  states  of  conscious- 
ness in  their  relations  of  coexistence  and  sequence,  likeness 
and  unlikeness. 

Although  this  is  one  of  the  best-established  conclusions  of 
modern  psychology,  it  is  still  a  conclusion  which  requires 
considerable  effort  to  understand  in  all  its  implications ;  and 
for  this  reason,  as  well  as  on  account  of  its  supreme  impor- 
tance, it  will  be  desirable  briefly  to  illustrate  it  from  yet 
another  point  of  view.  We  shall  be  assisted  in  comprehend- 
ing the  general  truth  by  a  set  of  considerations  which  show 
that,  although  our  internal  feelings  or  states  of  consciousness 
are  constantly  produced  by  external  agents,  yet  we  have  no 
warrant  whatever  for  assuming  that  the  external  agent  in 
any  way  resembles  the  internal  feeling.  For  instance, 
although  the  feelings  of  redness  and  resistance  are  caused 
by  agencies  without  us,  we  have  no  warrant  for  assuming 
that  the  external  cause  of  redness  resembles  *ia  feeling  of 
redness,  or  that  the  external  cause  of  resistance  resembles 
the  feeling  of  resistance.  In  other  words,  we  know  redness 
and  resistance  only  as  phenomena,  only  as  modifications  of 
consciousness  ;  and  although  we  are  compelled  to  refer  these 
phenomena  to  causes  which  exist  externally  and  which  would 
still  exist  if  there  were  no  minds  to  be  affected  by  them,  we 
ire  nevertheless  unable  to  assert  that  these  external  causes — 


ch.t.]  THE  RELATIVITY  OF  KNOWLEDGE.  17 

the  real  things  corresponding  to  the  phenomena  of  redness 
and  resistance, — are  in  any  wise  like  the  phenomena. 

To  any  one  accustomed  to  examine  these  matters,  such  a 
conclusion  seems  much  like  a  truism  ;  amounting,  indeed, 
merely  to  the  statement  that  we  cannot  get  outside  of  our 
own  minds.  Nevertheless,  it  will  perhaps  not  be  considered 
a  needless  prolonging  of  the  argument  if  I  add  a  few  concrete 
illustrations. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  extremely  probable  that  the  kinds  of 
feeling  awakened  by  the  same  external  cause  are  not  quite 
alike  in  any  two  species  of  animals.  When  Wieniawski  plays 
his  violin  in  the  Music  Hall,  his  human  auditors  have 
awakened  in  them  those  feelings  which  we  designate  as  the 
consciousness  of  musical  sound ;  but  if  he  were  to  play  his 
violin  over  a  tank  containing  a  number  of  those  mollusks 
which  have  no  organs  of  hearing,  the  feelings  awakened  in 
them  would  be  wholly  different.  They  would  feel  a  sort  of 
nervous  shiver  or  jar,  like  that  which  our  fingers  experience 
when  holding  a  vibrating  tuning-fork ;  and  they  would  very 
likely  all  shrink  into  their  shells.  In  like  manner,  the  same 
external  agents  which  arouse  well-defined  tactual  feelings  in 
us,  can  arouse  in  a  lobster,  whose  feet  and  claws  are  encased 
in  a  bony  shell,  nothing  but  that  vague  sort  of  tactual  feeling 
of  which  we  are  conscious  when  we  poke  things  with  a 
stick. 

In  the  second  place,  it  is  extremely  probable  that  the  sub- 
jective feelings  awakened  by  the  same  external  cause  are  not 
quite  alike  in  any  two  individuals  of  the  same  species.  In 
those  persons  who  are  troubled  with  Daltonism,  or  colour- 
blindness, luminous  undulations  so  different  as  those  of  red 
and  green  awaken  feelings  that  are  identical.  On  the  other 
hand,  "aerial  pulses  recurring  at  the  rate  of  16  per  second,  are 
perceived  by  some  as  separate  pulses ;  but  by  some  they  are 
perceived  as  a  tone  of  very  low  pitch.  Similarly  at  the  other 
extreme.     Vibrations  exceeding  30,000  per  second,  are  in- 

VOL.  i.  C 


18  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pT.  i. 

audible  through  certain  ears  ;  while  through  ears  that  are,  as 
we  may  suppose,  of  somewhat  unlike  structures,  these  rapid 
vibrations  are  known  as  an  excessively  acute  sound."  l 

And  thirdly,  let  us  notice  a  set  of  facts  which  are  so 
familiar  to  us  that  we  overlook  their  significance.  "A  whiff 
of  ammonia,  coming  in  contact  with  the  eyes,  produces  a 
smart ;  getting  into  the  nostrils,  excites  the  consciousness  we 
describe  as  an  intolerably  strong  odour ;  being  condensed 
on  the  tongue,  generates  an  aciid  taste ;  while  ammonia, 
applied  in  solution  to  a  tender  part  of  the  skin,  makes  it 
burn,  as  we  say."  "  A  vibrating  tuning-fork,  touched  with 
the  fingers,  gives  them  a  sense  of  jar  ;  held  between  the  teeth, 
it  gives  this  same  sense  to  the  parts  in  which  they  are  em- 
bedded, while  by  communication  through  the  bones  of  the 
skull,  its  vibrations  so  affect  the  auditory  apparatus  as  to 
awaken  a  consciousness  of  sound — a  consciousness  which 
alone  results,  if  the  tuning-fork  does  not  touch  the  body." 
"  The  sun's  rays  falling  on  the  hand  cause  a  sensation  of  heat, 
but  no  sensation  of  light ;  and  falling  on  the  retina  cause  a 
sensation  of  light,  but  no  sensation  of  heat."  Note  that  in 
all  these  cases  the  same  external  cause  produces  widely- 
different  phenomena  according  to  the  different  avenues 
through  which  it  affects  our  consciousness.  The  external 
cause  cannot  resemble  all  these  phenomena,  its  effects ;  we 
do  not  know  which  it  resembles ;  what  warrant  have  we, 
then,  for  assuming  that  it  resembles  any  one  of  them  ? 

To  these  examples,  culled  from  Mr.  Spencers  "  Principles 
of  Psychology,"  let  me  add  another,  which,  though  less 
obvious,  is  equally  striking.  The  compound  solar  ray,  when 
analysed,  is  found  to  consist  of  three  sets  of  relatively  simple 

1  "  It  is  probahle  that  the  antennae  of  insects  respond  to  stimuli  which 
leave  us  -i j^csible,  while  stimuli  which  affect  us  leave  them  undisturbed. 
.  .  .  "We  luiow  there  are  a  thousand  tremours  in  the  air  which  heat  upon 
our  ears  unheard  ;  ana  if  more  sensitive  organs  are  capable  of  healing  some 
of  these,  there  must  he  tremours  which  no  orgauism  cau  feel." — Lewes, 
Problcr,is  of  Life  and  Mind,  vol.  i,  p.  255. 


ch.  i.]  THE  RELATIVITY  OF  KNOWLEDGE.  19 

rays.  First,  we  have  the  visible  rays  of  medium  refrangi- 
bility,  ranging  from  red  to  violet,  and  sometimes  called  the 
Newtonic  rays.  Beyond  the  violet,  in  the  outlying  portions 
of  the  spectrum,  lie  the  so-called  Ritteric  rays,  of  greatest 
refrangibility,  which  are  not  visible,  but  are  manifested 
through  their  actinic  or  chemical  effects  ;  these  are  the  rays 
with  which  we  photograph.  Beyond  the  red,  at  the  other 
end  of  the  spectrum,  lie  the  so-called  Herschellic  rays,  of 
least  refrangibility,  which  also  are  not  visible,  but  are  mani- 
fested through  their  thermal  effects.  These  invisible  rays 
differ  from  the  visible  physically,  only  by  their  different 
periods  of  motion  or  wave-lengths,  in  which  respect  the 
visible  rays  differ  also  among  themselves,  as  is  indicated  by 
their  different  colours.  Bearing  this  in  mind,  let  us  con- 
template the  remarkable  series  of  effects  produced  in  our 
consciousness  by  gradually  increasing  rates  of  vibration  in 
the  particles  of  matter.  Vibrations  occurring  less  frequently 
than  16  times  in  a  second,  produce  in  us  the  consciousness  of 
a  succession  of  noises.  Vibrations  which  occur  oftener  than 
16  times,  but  less  often  than  30,000  times,  in  a  second, 
produce  in  us  the  consciousness  of  musical  notes,  which  are 
higher  and  higher  in  pitch  as  the  vibrations  are  more  rapid. 
Vibrations  occurring  oftener  than  30,000  times,  but  less  often 
than  458,000,000,000,000  times,  in  a  second,  do  not  affect  us 
through  the  ears,  but  the  more  rapid  ones  affect  us  through 
the  nerves  of  the  skin,  and  produce  in  us  the  consciousness  of 
heat.  Vibrations  occurring  at  the  rate  of  458,000,000,000,000 
in  a  second,  affect  us  through  the  eyes,  and  produce  in  us  the 
consciousness  of  red  light ;  at  the  rate  of  577,000,000,000,000 
in  a  second,  they  produce  in  us  the  consciousness  of  green 
light ;  at  the  rate  of  727,000,000,000,000  in  a  second,  they 
produce  in  us  the  consciousness  of  violet  light.  At  still 
higher  rates  than  this,  they  cease  to  affect  us  through  the 
•iyea,  and  indeed  produce  in  us  no  definite  state  of  conscious- 
ness at  all,  though  they  may  be  remotely  concerned  in  keep- 

c  2 


20  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  i 

ing  up  that  vague  organic  feeling  of  bien-ttre  or  pleasurable 
existence,  which  is  in  part  due  to  the  indirect  effects  of  the 
Ritteric  portion  of  the  solar  rays  upon  the  chemical  actions 
going  on  throughout  our  bodies.  Here,  then,  we  have  one 
and  the  same  external  agency — vibrations  among  particles  of 
matter — producing  in  us  feelings  so  different  as  those  of  sound, 
heat,  and  light.  And  when  it  is  asked  which  of  these  feelings 
the  external  cause  resembles,  is  not  the  answer  sufficiently 
obvious  that  in  all  probability  it  resembles  none  of  them, 
and  is  comparable  with  none  of  them  ?  May  we  not  clearly 
see  that  what  appears  to  us  as  a  series  of  widely-distin- 
guished phenomena  may  after  all  correspond  to  a  set  of 
objective  realities  between  which  there  is  no  such  wide 
distinction  ?  And  do  we  need  any  more  evidence  to  convince 
us  that  phenomena — by  which  I  mean  the  effects  produced 
upon  our  consciousness  by  unknown  external  agencies — are 
all  that  we  can  compare  and  classify,  and  are  therefore  all 
that  we  can  know  ? 

Perhaps,  however,  it  may  still  appear  that,  in  the  illustra- 
tion just  cited,  we  have  assumed  a  knowledge  of  the  external 
cause,  to  a  certain  extent.  In  asserting  that  the  feelings  of 
sound,  of  heat,  and  of  light,  are  alike  caused  by  vibrations 
among  particles  of  matter,  we  may  perhaps  seem  to  imply 
that  we  do  know  these  vibrations,  and  we  may  be  suspected 
of  formulating  the  various  states  of  consciousness  in  question, 
in  terms  of  the  objective  reality.1  But  a  moment's  reflection 
will  convince  us  that  this  is  not  the  case.  After  the  illustration 
with  which  this  chapter  opened,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say 
that  the  knowledge  of  a  vibration  of  particles  as  an  objective 
reality,  is  utterly  unattainable  by  us.     We  reach  the  concep- 

1  In  his  paper  on  "  Hibemicisms  in  Philosophy"  (Contemporary  Review, 
January  1872,  p.  147),  the  Duke  of  Argyll  himself  commits  the  following 
exquisite  bull : — "  We  now  know  what  light  is  '  in  itself — that  is  to  say,  we 
know  the  nature  and  constitution  of  it,  not  in  terms  of  the  sensation  it  gives 
to  us,  but  in  terms  of  a  wholly  different  order  of  conception."  The  italics  art 
mine. 


l-h.  t.]  THE  RELATIVITY  OF  KNOWLEDGE.  21 

tion  of  a  vibration  of  particles  only  by  inference  from  the 
states  of  consciousness  aroused  in  us  by  visible  or  palpable 
vibrations.  Certain  subjective  experiences  of  undulatory 
movement,  as  when  a  pebble  is  dropped  into  still  water,  or  as 
when  a  string  is  made  fast  by  one  end  and  twitched  at  the 
other,  beget  in  us  the  conception  of  vibration ;  and  this  con- 
ception we  transfer  in  thought  to  those  molecules  and  atoms 
of  which  we  believe  material  bodies  to  be  constituted.  So  far, 
then,  from  interpreting  our  feelings  of  light,  heat,  and  sound, 
in  terms  of  the  objective  reality,  we  have  merely  been  inter- 
preting certain  states  of  consciousness  in  terms  of  other  states. 
Or,  to  put  the  same  statement  into  different  language,  we  have 
regarded  the  phenomena  of  sound,  heat,  light,  and  actinism, 
as  adequately  explained,  when  we  have  classified  them  with 
certain  other  phenomena  of  vibratory  motion.  We  merely 
affirm  that  a  cause  which,  under  a  given  set  of  conditions, 
will  produce  certain  states  of  consciousness  within  us,  will, 
under  a  different  set  of  conditions,  produce  certain  other 
states  of  consciousness.  Concerning  the  nature  of  the  cause, 
whether  we  call  it  vibration,  or  are  content  to  go  on  calling  it 
heat  or  light,  we  affirm  nothing,  and  can  know  nothing. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  SCOPE  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 

In  setting  forth,  and  illustrating  the  conclusion  that  we  can 
only  know  that  which  is  caused,  which  is  finite,  and  which  is 
relative,  we  have  virtually  rejected  as  impracticable  and  use- 
less a  large  number  of  the  inquiries  with  which  philosophy 
has  habitually  concerned  itself.  Both  by  practical  examples, 
and  by  a  series  of  mutually-harmonious  deductions  from  the 
mode  in  which  our  intelligence  works,  as  revealed  to  us  by 
psychologic  analysis,  it  has  been  shown  that  we  are  for  ever 
debarred  from  any  knowledge  of  the  Absolute,  the  Infinite,  or 
the  Uncaused;  that  we  can  affirm  nothing  whatever  concern- 
ing the  ultimate  nature  of  Matter  or  Mind  ;  and  that  all  our 
knowledge  consists  in  the  classification  of  states  of  conscious- 
ness produced  in  us  by  unknown  external  agencies.  Never- 
theless from  the  earliest  times,  philosophy  has  busied  itself 
in  attempts  to  reach  tenable  conclusions  respecting  the  nature 
and  attributes  of  the  absolute  and  infinite  First  Cause  ;  it  has 
ever  tacitly  assumed  that  the  ultimate  nature  of  Matter  as 
well  as  of  Mind  constitutes  a  legitimate  subject  of  investiga- 
tion ;  and  that  from  the  knowledge  formed  by  the  organized 
experience  of  recurring  states  of  consciousness,  we  can  in 
tome  mysterious  way  rise  to  a  so-called  higher  grade  of 
Knowledge,  in  which  realities  no  less  than  phenomena  may 


oh.  ii.]  THE  SCOPE  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  23 

become  the  object  of  thought.  The  earliest  philosophic 
speculations  of  the  Greeks  dealt  almost  exclusively  with 
the  origin  of  the  Universe,  and  the  nature  of  its  irpwrr]  dp^q 
or  First  Cause,  or  with  just  such  theories  of  the  ultimate 
constitution  of  matter  as  we  saw  in  the  previous  chapter 
leading  us  to  alternative  impossibilities  of  thought.  In  the 
Parmenidcs  and  Sophistes  of  Plato  we  may  find,  presented  with 
unrivalled  acuteness,  though  rendered  dreary  by  endless 
verbal  quibbling,  many  of  the  same  inquiries  concerning  the 
nature  of  the  Absolute  which  we  have  been  led  to  condemn  as 
impracticable.  Is  the  Absolute  One  or  Many  ?  Is  the  One 
Finite  or  is  it  Infinite  ?  And  these  inquiries,  in  the  first- 
named  dialogue,  lead  up  to  the  same  sort  of  startling 
paradoxes  which  we  have  already  signalized  as  the  inevitable 
outcome  of  speculation  upon  such  subjects.  In  his  first 
argument,  Parrnenides  demonstrates  that  the  One  is  neither 
in  itself  nor  in  anything  else,  neither  at  rest  nor  in  motion, 
neither  the  same  with  itself  nor  different  from  itself.  In  his 
second  argument,  he  demonstrates  that  the  One  is  both  in 
itself  and  in  other  things,  both  at  rest  and  in  motion,  both  the 
same  with  itself  and  different  from  itself.  That  is,  while  his 
first  demonstration  denies  both  of  two  opposite  and  mutually 
destructive  propositions,  his  second  affirms  them  both. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  after  Plato's  time  the  Greeks  felt, 
though  they  did  not  distinctly  comprehend,  the  futility  of 
such  inquiries.  By  the  successors  of  Plato,  philosophy  was 
brought  into  a  state  of  more  or  less  complete  scepticism  as  to 
the  possibility  of  any  trustworthy  knowledge  whatever.  "  We 
assert  nothing, — not  even  that  we  assert  nothing,"  was  the 
extravagant  dictum  of  one  of  the  later  schools  of  Greek 
philosophy.  And  finally  philosophy  ceased  from  its  indepen- 
dent inquiries,  being  merged  in  theology  by  Proklos,  who, 
hopeless  of  attaining  absolute  knowledge  by  any  exertion  of 
the  intellectual  powers,  was  driven  to  assert  the  existence 
of  a   divine  supernatural  light,  by  which    the    soul    being 


24  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

irradiated  might  thus  alone  catch  glimpses  of  the  external 
reality. 

The  later  career  of  philosophy  furnishes  us  with  the  same 
kind  of  illustrations  as  its  earlier  stages.  After  its  revival 
in  the  Middle  Ages,  philosophy  again  proceeded  to  treat  of 
the  same  kind  of  questions  as  those  which  had  hallled  the 
keenest  and  most  subtle  intellects  of  antiquity.  In  the  eager 
scrutiny  of  the  nature  of  things,  the  scholastic  metaphysicians 
thought  little  of  ascertaining  the  relations  of  coexistence  and 
succession  among  phenomena.  Their  disputes  were  about 
quiddities,  entities,  occult  virtues,  and  efficient  causes.  Nor 
in  modern  times  do  we  find  that  philosophy  has  been  at  all 
disposed  to  recognize  the  limits  which  we  have  here  found 
ourselves  obliged  to  impose  upon  it.  On  the  other  hand, 
modern  metaphysicians  have  generally  proceeded  upon  the 
tacit  assumption  that  the  possibilities  of  thought  are  co- 
extensive with  the  possibilities  of  things,  and  that  any  train 
of  propositions  which  can  be  clearly  conceived  and  logically 
concatenated,  must  be  true.  It  was  upon  this  assumption 
that  Malebranche  founded  his  theory  of  Occasional  Causes, 
and  Leibnitz  his  doctrine  of  Pre-established  Harmony.  It 
was  upon  this  that  Spinoza  constructed  a  theory  of  the 
universe,  the  most  gigantic  in  conception,  and  the  most 
unJi'»<chingly  logical  in  execution,  of  all  metaphysical 
theories.  Upon  this  also,  rests  the  Kantian  doctrine  of 
Necessary  Truths;  and  upon  this  most  treacherous  foun- 
dation has  been  more  recently  built  the  lofty  but  unstable 
structure  of  Hegelism. 

Since  Bacon's  time,  it  is  true,  there  have  appeared — for  the 
most  part  in  England — a  number  of  eminent  thinkers,  who, 
asserting  the  relativity  of  human  knowledge,  and  avowedly 
renouncing  the  attempt  to  solve  the  mysteries  of  objective 
existence,  have  occupied  themselves  with  psychological  pro- 
blems. To  these  thinkers — Hobbes,  Locke,  Berkeley,  Hume 
Hartley,  Brown,  James  Mill,  Hamilton,  and  Mansel — a  large 


ch.  ii.]  THE  SCOPE  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  25 

proportion  of  the  conceptions  now  current  and  dominant  in 
philosophy  are  due.  Nevertheless,  as  we  shall  see  by  and  bye, 
even  these  philosophers  have  not  always  made  their  practice 
coincide  with  their  preaching.  Though  they  have  asserted, 
and  were  indeed  the  first  to  assert  clearly,  the  doctrine  of  the 
Relativity  of  Knowledge,  they  did  not  always  carry  in  their 
minds  its  full  import ;  and  were  betrayed  not  unfrequently 
into  making  statements  which  imply  that  the  possibilities  of 
thought  are  coextensive  with  the  possibilities  of  things. 

It  may  appear,  therefore,  that  in  our  rigorous  denial  of  the 
possibility  of  absolute  knowledge,  we  shall  not  have  the 
countenance  of  the  most  eminent  philosophers  who  have 
lived.  It  may  bethought  that  their  works  will  testify  against 
us.  We  shall  perhaps  be  accused  of  regarding  the  noble  labours 
of  so  many  generations  of  gifted  thinkers  as  a  mere  imprac- 
ticable striving  after  that  which  no  striving  can  procure, — as 
the  crying  of  infants  for  the  moon,  or  as  the  groping  of  the 
alchemist  for  the  philosopher's  stone.  And  it  will  no  doubt 
be  indignantly  asked,  by  what  title  do  we  pretend  to  philo- 
sophize at  all  ?  In  rejecting  as  for  ever  insoluble  so  large  a 
proportion  of  the  inquiries  with  which  philosophy  has  until 
lately  busied  itself,  do  we  not  virtually  declare  philosophy 
to  be  antiquated  and  useless  ? 

To  neither  of  these  accusations  can  we  consent  to  plead 
guilty.  In  replying  to  the  first,  it  may  indeed  be  granted 
that  those  who  rigorously  maintain  that  Absolute  Being  is 
unknowable,  will  naturally  regard  the  labours  of  Plato  and 
Spinoza,  and  Hegel,  as  a  vain  seeking  after  that  which  cannot 
be  found.  But  it  does  not  follow  that  such  seeking  is  to  be 
condemned  as  worthless.  It  was  only  after  many  attempts 
had  failed,  that  we  could  learn  that  the  failure  was  due  not 
to  curable  but  to  incurable  weakness.1     It  was  only  after  all 

1  "The  study  of  the  master-minds  of  the  human  race  is  almost  equally 
instructive  in  what  they  achieved  and  in  what  they  failed  to  achieve;  and 
speculations  which  are  lar  from  solving  the  riddle  of  existence  have  their  use 
in  teaching  us  why  it  is  insoluble." — Mansel,  Metaphysics,  p.  23. 


26  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [it.  i. 

possible  devices  of  attack  had  proved  fruitless,  that  we  could 
realize  the  truth  that  we  had  been  assailing  an  inexpugnable 
fortress.     Had   we  not  been  taught  by  many  a  bitter  defeat, 
we  should  never  have  learned  the  real  extent  of  our  powers. 
Had  not  metaphysics  reared  many  an  apparently-solid  edifice, 
which  fell  into  unshapely   ruin   at  the  first  rude   blast  of 
criticism,   psychology  might  never   have    troubled  itself  to 
examine   the   soil   upon   which   all   such  edifices   must   be 
founded.    Nay,  it  may  be  truly  said,  that  though  philosophers 
have  failed  in  what  they  have  consciously  attempted,  they 
have    nevertheless    unwittingly  achieved    a   result    greater 
than  any  of  those  which  they  have  sought  to  obtain.     By 
their  long  career  of  heroic  defeat,  they  have  furnished  us 
with  a  concrete  demonstration,  almost  superfluously  ample,  ol 
the   relativity   of   human   knowledge.      By   exhausting   all 
possible  hypotheses  respecting  the  objective  reality,  they  have 
made  it  apparent  that  no  tenable  hypothesis  can  be  framed. 
In  the  very  failure  to  obtain  one  kind  of  truth,  they  have 
demonstrated  for  us  a  truth  of  another  sort, — a  truth  which 
must  for  the  future  lie  at  the  bottom  of  all  successful  research. 
Is  not  this  then  a  worthy  result  ?    Remembering  how  steep 
and  laborious   is  the   path   of  human   progress,  is  not  the 
definite  establishment   of   one   fundamental  truth  like  the 
Relativity  of  Knowledge  an  achievement  worthy  to  crown 
the  efforts  of  twenty-five  centuries  ?     Shall  it  take  two  or 
three   generations   of    weary  experimenting   to   bring    into 
existence  some  incarnation  of  material  force  like  the  steam- 
engine,  and  may  it  not  take  a  hundred  generations  for  the 
human  mind  to  ascertain  for  itself  experimentally  what  it  can 
know  and  what  it  cannot  know  ? 

To  the  second  accusation  we  may  return  a  straightforward 
denial.  In  asserting  the  impossibility  of  acquiring  absolute 
knowledge,  or  of  ascertaining  aught  respecting  the  nature  of 
mind  and  matter  and  the  origin  of  the  universe,  we  do  not 
dethrone  Philosophy ;  we  do  not  condemn  it  as  antiquated 


fH.  ii.]  THE  SCOPE  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  27 

and  useless  ;  we  do  not  leave  it  nothing  with  which  to  occupy 
itself.  On  the  contrary,  we  do  but  enthrone  it  more  securely 
than  ever;  and  we  leave  it  in  possession  of  quite  as  goodly  a 
realm  as  that  in  which  our  metaphysical  predecessors  would 
fain  have  established  it. 

In  order  to  show  how  this  can  be  true,  it  will  be  naracs&y 
for  me  to  define,  somewhat  at  length,  the  Scope  of  Philosophy, 
— to  indicate  the  nature  of  the  inquiries  with  which 
philosophy  may  profitably  be  concerned.  And  since  philo- 
sophy may  be  correctly  though  rudely  defined  as  a  kind  of 
knowledge,  it  will  first  be  desirable  to  indicate  the  essential 
distinctions  between  the  different  orders  of  knowledge, — to 
show  in  what  respect  philosophy  differs  from  science,  and  in 
what  respect  both  philosophy  and  science  differ  from  that 
comparatively  imperfect  kind  of  knowledge  which  is  the 
common  property  of  uncultivated  minds. 

Though  science  has  been  often  vaguely  supposed  to  be 
something  generically  distinct  from  ordinary  knowledge,  yet 
the  briefest  consideration  will  suffice  to  show  us  that  this  is 
not  the  case,  but  that  scientific  knowledge  is  only  a  higher 
development  of  the  common  information  of  average  minds. 
In  the  first  place  we  shall  see  that  the  process  gone  through, 
and  the  results  attained  by  the  process,  are  not  generically 
different  in  scientific  and  in  ordinary  thinking. 

All  knowledge  whatever  is,  as  we  have  seen,  a  classifica- 
tion of  experiences.  No  intelligence  or  intelligent  action  is 
possible  unless  the  distinctions  among  surrounding  phenomena 
be  detected  and  registered  in  the  mind.  Even  the  lowest 
animal  can  only  preserve  its  existence  on  condition  that 
different  external  agencies  shall  affect  it  in  different  ways, — 
that  different  sets  of  circumstances  shall  cause  it  to  put  forth 
correspondingly  different  sets  of  correlated  actions.  Perhaps 
it  is  sufficient  for  these  simply  constituted  creatures  to 
distinguish  between  the  organic  and  inorganic  matters  present 
in  their  environment,  or  between  light  and  darkness,  as  we 


28  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

see  a  freshwater  polyp  seek  the  darkest  corner  of  a  vessel 
exposed  to  direct  sunlight.  Among  the  higher  animals 
possessed  of  developed  organs  of  sense  and  of  relatively- 
complex  nervous  systems,  the  classifying  process  is  carried  to 
much  greater  completeness.  Along  with  a  tolerably  wide 
set  of  distinctions  between  various  classes  of  plants  and 
weaker  animals  that  are  more  or  less  useful  and  desirable  as 
food,  and  between  various  classes  of  inorganic  phenomena 
that  are  serviceable  or  dangerous,  and  of  stronger  animals 
that  are  to  be  dreaded  as  enemies, — there  is  also  a  clear 
perception  of  the  distinct  modes  of  action  involved  in  the 
acquisition  of  desired  objects,  and  in  the  escape  from  menacing 
dangers;  forming  an  aggregate  of  knowledge  which  implies 
quite  an  extensive  comparison  and  classification  of  ex- 
periences. Besides  all  this,  there  is  a  set  of  special  distinc- 
tions between  special  orders  of  phenomena,  between  the 
various  kinds  and  degrees  of  sound,  odour  and  temperature, 
which  in  some  cases  exceed  in  discriminative  accuracy  any  of 
the  corresponding  empirical  distinctions  which  the  human 
mind  is  able  to  recognize.  And  in  the  dog,  who  has  from 
time  immemorial  been  the  friend  and  servant  of  man,  there 
is  superadded  to  all  this  a  rudimentary  moral  classification  of 
actions  as  praiseworthy  or  blameworthy,  as  is  seen,  for  instance, 
in  his  guilty  attitude  when  detected  in  committing^  a  raid 
upon  some  neighbouring  sheepfold.  Coming  lastly  to  man, 
but  little  illustration  will  be  needed  to  show  that  his  acquisi- 
tion of  knowledge  is  in  like  manner  the  progressive  establish- 
ment of  distinctions.  The  supremely  important  knowledge 
which  we  acquire  during  early  infancy  consists  in  the  mental 
grouping  of  objects  according  to  their  various  properties  ;  in 
the  gradual  recognition  of  distinctions  between  hardness  and 
softness,  sweetness  and  acidity,  rigidity  and  elasticity,  rough- 
ness and  smoothness,  humidity  and  dryness,  roundness  and 
angularity, — between  various  shades  and  intensities  of  temper- 
ature, of  sound,  and  of  colour, — between  matter  w7hich  resists, 


en.  ii.]  THE  SCOPE  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  29 

and  space  which  does  not  resist.  Later  in  life,  our  intellectual 
education  consists  still  in  the  progressive  grouping  of  ex- 
periences. That  portion  of  it  which  we  habitually  designate 
as  practical  consists  in  the  more  and  more  complete  distribu- 
tion of  ends  (as  variously  desirable  or  undesirable),  and  of 
the  relations  between  ends  and  means ;  while  the  education 
which  we  more  especially  characterize  as  theoretical  consists 
in  the  more  and  more  complete  distribution  of  era  acquired 
notions  into  well-defined  groups,  mathematical,  pnysical,  or 
physiological,  legal  or  ethical.  He  who  has  so  distinctly 
classified  his  experiences  of  the  connections  between  certain 
courses  of  action  and  the  resulting  feelings  of  happiness  or 
misery  that  he  can  usually  decide  upon  any  line  of  conduct 
with  a  clear  perception  of  its  consequences,  is  what  we  call  a 
prudent  man,  or  a  man  of  sound  judgment.  While,  as  Mr. 
Mill  has  somewhere  observed,  that  man  is  most  completely 
educated  who  has  the  clearest  sense  of  the  connotations  of 
the  words  which  he  uses  ;  who  understands  most  thoroughly 
and  feels  most  keenly  the  fine  shades  of  distinction  between 
allied  groups  of  conceptions,  which  less  perfectly  educated 
persons  are  liable  to  confuse  together  and  to  reason  about  as 
if  they  constituted  but  a  single  group.  Such  a  man  possesses 
what  Sainte-Beuve  calls  the  sense  of  nuance  ;  an  intellectual 
characteristic  which  is,  perhaps,  nowhere  more  habitually 
exemplified  than  in  the  charming  pages  of  that  most  con- 
summate of  critics. 

And  this  leads  me  to  observe — what  indeed  the  whole  of 
the  above  survey  implies — that  since  knowledge  is  classifica- 
tion, the  completeness  of  the  classification  varies  with  the 
degree  of  intelligence.  Minds  in  a  low  stage  of  development 
can  distinguish  only  between  widely-contrasted  phenomena. 
The  classifications  of  which  they  are  capable  consist  of  but 
few  groups,  indefinite  in  their  extent  and  incoherent  in  their 
materials ;  while  the  progressive  increase  of  intelligence 
consists  in  the  progressive  establishment  of  sub- classes  of 


30  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pi.  i. 

phenomena,  that  are  continually  less  and  less  widely  con- 
trasted, that  are  more  and  more  accurately  defined  in  their 
limits  and  more  and  more  coherent  in  their  materials.  And 
the  ultimate  perfection  of  knowledge  would  he  the  recogni- 
tion of  all  the  distinctions  which  exist  between  phenomena, 
and  the  consequent  establishment  of  classes  whose  members 
would  be  completely  alike  among  themselves,  while  unlike 
the  members  of  all  other  classes.  Manifestly  such  knowledge 
would  be,  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  term,  scientific 
knowledge ;  which  is  thus  seen  to  be  merely  a  higher  and 
more  complex  development  not  only  of  the  knowledge  of 
ordinary  matters  which  we  do  not  regard  as  scientific,  but  of 
the  rudimentary  knowledge  possessed  by  infants,  by  savages, 
and  by  the  lower  animals.  The  dog  or  lion  has  no  doubt 
established  in  his  mind  the  distinction  between  the  bright 
sky  of  day,  illuminated  by  a  single  dazzling  orb,  and  the 
pale  sky  of  night,  spangled  with  a  multitude  of  twinkling 
points.  The  savage  who  in  his  nocturnal  prowlings  guides 
himself  by  the  stars  has  rudely  classified  these  objects 
in  their  relations  of  position.  The  shepherds  of  Mesopotamia 
and  the  agriculturists  of  Attika  superadded  the  distinctions 
between  stars  which  regularly  traverse  the  same  apparent 
paths  and  stars  which  pursue  an  erratic  course  ;  and  in  their 
classifications  of  stars  according  to  their  times  of  rising  and 
setting  we  have  an  example  of  a  rudely-scientific  method  of 
proceeding.  Finally  by  the  modern  astronomer  the  heavenly 
bodies  are  minutely  classified  according  to  ti  rv  mutual 
relations  as  suns,  planets,  or  satellites  ;  according  to  their 
visible  magnitudes,  or  the  angles  which  they  subtend  on  the 
field  of  vision ;  according  1 3  their  orbital  courses,  their 
angular  velocities,  their  axial  inclinations,  their  specific 
gravities,  etc.,  wherever  these  have  been  ascertained  ;  and 
lately  in  some  few  instances,  according  to  their  physical  con- 
stitutions in  so  far  as  light  has  been  thrown  upon  this  point 
by  spectrum-analysis.     In  like  manner  the  lowest  savage 


bh.  ii.]  THE  SCOPE  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  31 

has  noted  the  wide  contrast  between  plants  and  animals ; 
and  in  each  of  these  great  groups  has  furthermore  made 
sub-classes  comprising  respectively  those  which  are  useful  as 
food  or  as  medicine  for  wounds,  and  those  which  are  to  be 
shunned  as  poisonous  or  otherwise  dangerous.  While;  on 
the  other  hand,  the  scientific  naturalist  divides  and  subdivides 
until  he  acquires  distinct  conceptions  of  thousands  of  species 
of  insects,  and  ranks  trees  in  separate  classes  according  to 
the  myriad-fold  shapes  of  their  leaves,  the  spiral  arrange- 
ment of  their  branches,  the  number  of  their  cotyledons,  or 
the  mode  of  disposition  of  their  woody  fibre. 

All  this  will  appear  in  a  still  clearer  light  when  we 
remember  that  the  various  processes  which  we  habitually 
group  together  under  the  name  of  "  reasoning "  are  all  of 
them  acts  of  classification.  "The  savage,  having  by  ex- 
perience discovered  a  relation  between  a  certain  object  and 
a  certain  act,  infers  that  the  like  relation  will  be  found  in 
future  cases."  .  .  .  When  in  consequence  of  some  of  the 
properties  of  a  body,  we  attribute  to  it  all  those  properties  in 
virtue  of  which  it  is  referred  to  a  particular  class,  the  act  is 
an  act  of  inference.  "  The  forming  of  a  generalization  is  the 
putting  together  in  one  class  all  those  cases  which  present 
like  relations  ;  while  the  drawing  a  deduction  is  essentially 
the  perception  that  a  particular  case  belongs  to  a  certain 
class  of  cases  previously  generalized.  So  that,  as  classifi- 
cation is  a  grouping  together  of  like  things,  reasoning  is  a  group- 
ing together  of  like  relations  among  things.  And  while  the 
perfection  gradually  achieved  in  classification  consists  in  the 
formation  of  groups  of  objects  which  are  completely  alike, 
the  perfection  gradually  achieved  in  reasoning  consists  in  the 
formation  of  groups  of  cases  which  are  completely  alike."  * 

Since  knowledge  consists  in  classifying,  it  follows  con- 
versely that  ignorance  consists  in  inability  to  classify — in 
the  failure  to  group  together  similar  phenomena ;  and  that 

'•  Spencer's  Essays,  1st  series,  p.  189. 


32  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  \rr.v 

error  consists  in  wrongly  classifying,  in  the  grouping  bogethei 
oi  phenomena  which  are  really  distinct.     When  we  say  that 
a  child  is  ignorant  that  nitric  acid  will  burn,  we  mean  that, 
he  has  never  ranked   together   the   like    cases  of  a  finger 
immersed  in  nitric  acid  and  a  finger  thrust  against  heated 
metal.     When  we  say  that  the  ancients  were  in  ignorance 
concerning  the  force  which  keeps  the  planets  in  their  orbits, 
we  mean  that  they  did  not  know  what  that  force  is  like — 
that  they  had  never  grouped  together  the  like  cases  of  the 
earth  attracting  the  moon  and  the  earth  attracting  an  apple. 
And  when  we  say  that  they  were  in  error  in  attributing  the 
moon's  motion  to  the  volition  of  a  presiding  goddess,  we 
mean  that   they  grouped  together  the  unlike  cases  of  the 
motion  of  a  heavenly  body  through  the  sky  and  the  motion 
of  a  chariot  driven  by  its  charioteer  along  the  ground.     So 
when  we  say  that  we  do  not  fully  understand  the  coronal 
flames   and   other    singular   phenomena   presented   by   the 
eclipsed  sun,  we  mean  that  we  have  not  yet  entirely  suc- 
ceeded in  grouping  them  with  other  phenomena  of  which 
we  have  heretofore  had  experience.     And  when  we  say  that 
we  cannot  now  or  at  any  future  time  know  the  Absolute, 
we  mean  that  there  is  not  now  and  never  can  be,  anything 
given  in  cur  experience  with  which  we  can  classify  it. 

Having  thus,  at  the  risk  of  tediousness,  shown  in  detail 
the  essential  identity  of  the  processes  involved  in  science 
and  in  ordinary  knowledge,  let  us  go  on  to  enumerate  the 
respects  in  which  science  differs  from  ordinary  knowledge, 
bearing  in  mind  as  we  proceed  that  such  distinctions  can 
only  hold  good  to  a  certain  extent.  They  are  not  differences 
of  kind,  but  differences  of  degree. 

In  the  first  place  we  may  say  that  science  differs  from 
ordinary  knowledge  in  its  power  of  quantitative  prevision — of 
assigning  beforehand  the  precise  amount  of  effect  which  will 
be  produced  by  a  given  amount  of  cause.  Mere  prevision 
is  not,  as  is  sometimes  assumed,  peculiar  to  science.     We 


ch.  ii.]  THE  SCOPE  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  33 

frequently  hear  it  assigned,  as  tne  distinguishing  charac- 
teristic of  scientific  knowledge,  that  it  enables  us  to  predict ; 
and  the  infallibility  of  the  predictions  of  science  is  commonly 
alluded  to  as  among  its  greatest  triumphs.  Nevertheless, 
when  the  schoolboy  throws  a  stone  into  the  air,  he  can  pre- 
dict its  fall  as  certainly  as  the  astronomer  can  predict  the 
recurrence  of  an  eclipse ;  but  his  prevision,  though  certain, 
is  rude  and  indefinite.  The  servant-girl  has  no  need  of 
chemistry  to  teach  her  that,  when  the  match  is  applied,  the 
fire  will  burn  and  smoke  ascend  the  chimney  ;  but  she  is  far 
from  being  able  to  predict  the  proportional  weights  of  oxygen 
and  carbon  which  will  unite,  the  volume  of  the  gases  which 
are  to  be  given  off,  or  the  intensity  of  the  radiation  which  is 
to  warm  the  room.  Her  prevision  is  qualitative,  not  quanti- 
tative in  its  character  :  she  can  foresee  the  kind  of  effect,  but 
not  its  amount. 

A  moment's  reflection,  however,  will  show  us  that  this 
statement,  as  it  stands,  does  not  convey  the  whole  truth.  It 
is  not  quite  true  that  our  servant-girl  can  foresee  the  kind  of 
effect.  She  can  foresee  a  part  of  it :  she  can  tell  us  that  the 
wood  will  burn,  but  she  will  know  nothing  about  the  union 
of  oxygen  with  carbon ;  and  will  thus  illustrate  the  super- 
iority of  science  even  with  respect  to  qualitative  prevision. 
On  the  other  hand,  she  can,  after  a  rude  fashion,  foresee  the 
amount  of  effect  which  will  follow  her  proceedings ;  since 
she  can,  if  intelligent,  estimate  the  amount  of  fuel  which 
will  be  required  to  produce  a  comfortable  warmth.  So  the 
savage  can  estimate  the  amount  of  tension  which  he  must 
impart  to  his  bow  in  order  to  send  his  arrow  to  the  requisite 
distance.  Thus  we  see  that,  even  with  respect  to  quantitative 
prevision,  science  can  be  distinguished  from  ordinary  know- 
ledge only  by  the  superior  accuracy  and  greater  extent  to 
which  it  carries  such  prevision.  Just  this  same  difference  of 
degree  between  science  and  ordinary  knowledge  constitutes 
also  the  chief  difference  between  the  more  developed  and  the 

VOL.    I.  D 


34  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  l 

less  developed  sciences.  The  sciences  which  have  arrived 
at  the  highest  perfection  are  those  which  have  carried  quan- 
titative prevision  to  the  farthest  extent.  Between  astronomy, 
which  can  foretell  the  precise  moment  at  which  a  solar 
eclipse  will  begin  a  hundred  thousand  years  hence,  and 
meteorology,  which  cannot  surely  foretell  from  week  to  week 
the  state  of  the  weather,  there  is  an  almost  immeasurable 
difference  in  scientific  completeness.  The  chemist  can  pre- 
dict the  exact  quantity  of  effect  which  will  be  produced  by 
mingling  a  new  substance  with  any  given  compound,  the 
properties  of  which  have  been  studied ;  while  the  physio- 
logist cannot  surely  predict  the  exact  amount  of  effect  which 
will  be  produced  by  a  drug  that  is  introduced  into  the 
organism;  and  we  accordingly  consider  chemistry  a  much 
more  advanced  science  than  physiology.  And  lastly,  let  us 
note  that  the  date  which  we  habitually  assign  for  the  com- 
mencement of  any  science  is  the  date  at  which  its  previsions 
began  to  assume  a  definitely  quantitative  character.  Dyna- 
mics is  said  to  have  become  a  science  when  Galileo  deter- 
mined the  increment  of  velocity  of  falling  bodies.  Chemistry 
became  a  science  when  Lavoisier,  De  Morveau,  and  Dalton 
discovered  the  exact  proportions  in  which  the  most  im- 
portant chemical  combinations  take  place.  No  science  of 
heat  was  possible  until  the  invention  of  the  thermometer 
enabled  men  to  measure  the  degrees  of  temperature.  There 
was  no  science  of  optics  until  it  had  been  ascertained  that 
the  sines  of  the  angles  of  incidence  and  reflection  or  refrac- 
tion bear  to  each  other  a  constant  ratio.  And  with  Mr. 
Joule's  discovery  that  a  certain  number  of  degrees  of  heat  is 
equivalent  to  a  certain  amount  of  mechanical  motion,  there 
becomes  possible  a  science  of  thermodynamics  which  shall 
express  by  a  single  set  of  formulas  the  activities  of  forces 
hitherto  treated  as  generically  different. 

The    second   difference   of    degree    between   science    and 
ordinary  knowledge  consists  in  the  greater  remoteness  of  the 


a.  ii.]  THE  SCOPE  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  35 

relations  of  likeness  and  unlikeness  which  science  detects 
and  classifies.  The  child  who,  when  an  orange  is  presented 
to  him,  infers  that  on  sucking  it  he  shall  experience  a 
pleasant  taste;  the  savage  who,  finding  the  half-eaten 
carcass  of  a  sheep,  concludes  that  a  lion  has  been  in  the 
neighbourhood;  and  Leverrier,  who,  noticing  that  the  ob- 
served motions  of  Uranus  do  not  coincide  with  its  motions 
as  predicted,  suspects  the  existence  of  a  still  remoter  planet 
which  disturbs  it — go,  all  of  them,  through  what  is  essen- 
tially the  same  process.  The  child  has  mentally  grouped 
together  the  attributes  of  an  orange ;  and  when  certain 
members  of  the  group — as  the  shape  and  colour  are  after- 
wards presented  to  his  consciousness,  there  occurs  a  mental 
representation  of  the  remaining  member — the  agreeable 
taste.  The  savage,  from  direct  or  hearsay  experience,  has 
grouped  together  many  cases  of  the  eating  of  sheep  by  lions, 
and  from  the  presence  of  a  certain  number  of  the  customary 
phenomena,  he  classifies  this  new  case  with  his  already- 
formed  group  of  cases ;  he  assigns  for  the  phenomenon  a 
cause  like  the  causes  which  he  has  known.  The  astro- 
uomer  has  linked  indissolubly  in  his  mind  the  phenomena 
of  celestial  motions  with  the  phenomena  of  gravitative  force, 
and  has  grouped  many  cases  in  which  such  force,  brought  to 
bear  on  a  planet  from  different  quarters,  causes  irregularities 
of  motion.  When,  therefore,  in  the  instance  before  him, 
after  calculating  the  resultant  of  all  the  known  forces  in 
operation,  he  finds  a  residuum  of  motion  which  is  unac- 
counted for,  what  does  he  do  ?  He  infers  a  like  force  as  the 
cause  of  the  residuary  motion  ;  and  since  there  is  no  force 
without,  matter,  he  infers  the  existence  of  planetary  matter 
other  than  the  planetary  matter  already  taken  into  account. 
He  enlarges  his  group  of  cases  in  which  planets  perturb  each 
other's  courses,  by  admitting  a  hypothetical  like  case  ;  and 
forthwith  proceeds  to  calculate,  from  the  amount  of  residuary 
motion,  the  size,  distance,  and  orbit  of  the  unknown  planet 

D  2 


36  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [rT.  i. 

N/liing  can  better  illustrate  the  statement  that  scientific 
and  ordinary  knowledge  are  alike  in  kind,  while  different  in 
degree.  While  the  processes  gene  through  by  the  child,  the 
savage,  and  the  astronomer,  are  manifestly  the  same,  the 
immeasurable  difference  in  the  complication  of  the  processes 
is  equally  manifest.  While  the  inference  in  the  one  case  is 
made  instantaneously,  so  as  almost  to  seem  a  part  of  the 
original  perception,  and  while  it  admits  of  verification  by  a 
series  of  simple  acts, — in  the  other  case  the  inference  is  one 
which  depends  ultimately  upon  a  long  chain  of  dependent 
propositions,  and  the  task  of  verifying  it  mathematically  is 
exceedingly  complicated  and  difficult.  Thus  to  our  state- 
ment, that  science  differs  from  ordinary  knowledge  in  the 
dejiniteness  of  its  previsions,  we  have  to  add  that  it  differs 
also  in  the  remoteness  and  complexity  of  its  previsions. 

Thirdly,  science  differs  from  ordinary  knowledge  in  the 
greater  generality  of  the  relations  which  it  classifies.  And 
this  continuous  increase  in  generality  is  one  of  the  most 
striking  characteristics  of  advancing  science.  "From  the 
'particular  case  of  the  scales,  the  law  of  equilibrium  of  which 
was  familiar  to  the  earliest  nations  known,  Archimedes 
advanced  to  the  more  general  case  of  the  unequal  lever  with 
unequal  weights ;  the  law  of  equilibrium  of  which  includes 
that  of  the  scales.  By  the  help  of  Galileo's  discovery  con- 
cerning the  composition  of  forces,  DAlembert  established  for 
the  first  time  the  equations  of  equilibrium  of  any  system  of 
forces  applied  to  the  different  points  of  a  solid  body — equa- 
tions which  include  all  cases  of  levers  and  an  infinity  of  cases 
besides."  But,  as  Comte  observes,  "before  hydrostatics 
could  be  comprehended  under  statics,  it  was  necessary  that 
the  abstract  theory  of  equilibrium  should  be  made  so  general 
as  to  apply  directly  to  fluids  as  well  as  solids.  This  was 
accomplished  when  Lagrange  supplied,  as  the  basis  of  the 
whole  of  mechanics,  the  single  principle  of  virtual  velocities," 
—or  the  principle  that  whenever  weights  balance  each  other, 


eh.  n.]  THE  SCOPE  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  37 

"  the  relation  of  one  set  of  weights  to  their  velocities  equals 
the  relation  of  the  other  set  of  velocities  to  their  weights." 
So  geometry  in  ancient  times  treated  of  questions  relating  to 
particular  figures  ;  but  since  the  great  discovery  of  Descartes, 
it  has  dealt  -with  questions  relating  to  any  figure  whatever. 
So,  in  the  progress  of  analytical  mathematics,  we  have  first 
arithmetic  which  "can  express  in  one  formula  the  value  of 
a  particular  tangent  to  a  particular  curve;"  and,  at  a  later 
date,  algebra,  which  can  express  in  one  formula  the  values  of 
all  possible  tangents  to  a  particular  curve ;  and,  at  a  still 
later  date,  the  calculus,  which  can  express  in  one  formula 
the  values  of  all  possible  tangents  to  all  possible  curves.1 

Fourthly,  science  is  continually  more  and  more  clearly 
differentiated  from  ordinary  knowledge  by  the  continually 
increasing  abstractness  of  the  relations  which  it  classifies. 
This  proposition  is  involved  in  the  preceding  one.  For 
clearly  the  progress  towards  higher  and  higher  generality  is 
the  progress  towards  a  knowledge  more  and  more  inde- 
pendent of  special  circumstances — towards  a  study  of  the 
phenomena  most  completely  disengaged  from  the  incidents  of 
particular  cases. 

And  finally  science  differs  from  ordinary  knowledge  in  ics 
higher  degree  of  organization — in  the  far  greater  extent  to 
which  it  carries  the  process  of  coordinating  groups  of  like 
orders  of  relations,  and  subordinating  groups  of  higher  and 
lower  orders  of  relations.  This  we  habitually  regard  as  such 
a  fundamental  characteristic  of  scientific  knowledge  that  we 
grant  the  title  of  science  to  some  departments  of  inquiry 
which  possess  it,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  only  prevision 
which  is  possible  in  them  is  neither  certain  nor  quantitative. 
Take,  for  instance,  the  case  of  biology.  If  quantitative  pre- 
vision were  the  only  thing  which  distinguishes  science,  we 
could  hardly  pretend  to  possess  a  science  of  life.  Our  power 
of  prevision  in  biology  is  for  the  most  part  strictly  limited  to 
1  Spencer's  Assays,"  1st  series,  pp.  177  —  180. 


38  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pp.  i. 

the  kind  of  effect  which  will  follow  a  given  cause ;  it  is 
seldom,  if  ever,  that  we  can  foretell  the  precise  amount  of 
effect ;  and  even  with  respect  to  the  kind  of  effect,  we  cannot 
always  be  sure  beforehand.  Biology  is  not  an  exact  science, 
like  chemistry,  and  perhaps  never  will  be.  Nevertheless, 
biology  is  such  an  admirably  organized  body  of  truths;  its 
classification,  both  of  objects  and  of  relations,  has  been 
carried  to  such  a  considerable  extent ;  and  the  subordination, 
the  mutual  coherence  and  congruity  of  its  verified  proposi- 
tions is  so  striking ;  that  we  should  no  more  think  of  doubting 
its  claims  to  be  called  a  science  than  we  should  doubt  the 
claims  of  astronomy. 

Thus  we  may  end  our  comparison  of  scientific  with  unscien- 
tific knowledge.  Along  with  generic  identity  between  the 
two,  we  have  noted  five  points  of  gradational  difference.  We 
have  seen  that  science  and  common  knowledge  alike  consist 
in  the  classification  of  phenomena  in  their  relations  of  co- 
existence and  sequence.  But  we  have  also  seen  that  science 
differs  from  common  knowledge  in  its  superior  power  of 
quantitative  prevision,  in  the  remoteness,  the  generality,  and 
the  abstractness  of  the  relations  which  it  classifies,  and  in  the 
far  more  complete  mutual  subordination  and  coherence  of  its 
groups  of  notions.  Such  are  the  distinctive  marks  of  science, 
regarded  as  a  kind  of  knowledge.  What  now  are  the  distinc- 
tive marks  of  philosophy,  regarded  as  a  kind  of  knowledge  ? 

The  metaphysical  philosophers,  whose  conclusions,  methods, 
and  postulates  were  rejected  in  the  preceding  chapter,  would 
have  replied  to  the  above  question,  that  philosophy  is  generi- 
cally  different  from  science, — that  philosophy  is  the  know- 
ledge of  the  absolute,  the  infinite,  the  uncaused,  the  objective 
reality,  while  science  is  the  knowledge  of  the  relative,  the 
finite,  the  caused,  the  subjective  state, — that  while  the  latter 
can  concern  itself  only  with  phenomena,  or  things  as  they 
exist  in  relation  to  the  percipient  mind,  the  former  can  aspire 
to  the  knowledge  of  noumena,  or  things  as  they  exist  inde- 


m.  ii.]  THE  SCOPE  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  39 

pend  ntly  and  out  of  relation  to  the  percipient  mind.  Such 
would  have  been  their  answer.  But  we  have  seen  that  no  such 
knowledge  of  noumena  is  possible,  that  the  very  nature  of  the 
cognitive  process  precludes  any  such  knowledge,  and  that,  if 
philosophy  is  to  be  regarded  as  knowledge  at  all,  it  can  have 
no  such  scope  and  function  as  metaphysicians  have  assigned  to 
it.  What  scope  is  there  left  for  philosophy  ?  If,  like  science 
and  common  knowledge,  it  is  nothing  more  than  a  classification 
of  phenomena  in  their  relations  of  coexistence  and  sequence, 
what  is  tli ere  left  i'or  it  to  do  which  science  cannot  do  as  well  ? 
We  reply  that  science  can,  after  all,  deal  only  with  par- 
ticular orders  of  phenomena.  No  matter  how  vast  the  gene- 
ralities to  which  it  can  attain,  it  only  proclaims  truths  which 
hold  throughout  certain  entire  classes  of  phenomena.  It 
does  not  proclaim  truths  which  hold  throughout  all  classes  of 
phenomena.  Its  widest  truths  are  astronomic,  or  chemical,  or 
biological  truths  ;  they  are  not  Cosmic  truths,  in  the  fullest 
sense  of  that  expression.  For  by  science  we  mean  merely 
the  sciences, — the  sum  of  knowledge  obtained  by  systematic 
inquiries  into  the  various  departments  of  phenomena.  Such 
knowledge  is,  after  all,  only  an  aggregate  of  parts,  each  oi 
which  is  more  or  less  completely  organized  in  itself:  it  is  not 
an  organic  whole,  the  parts  of  which  are  in  their  mutual 
relations  coordinated  with  each  other.  Or,  to  put  the  same 
truth  in  another  form  : — The  universe  of  phenomena  is  an 
organic  whole,  the  parts  of  which  are  not  really  divisible; 
though  we  must  needs  separate  them  for  convenience  of 
study.  We  find  it  necessary  to  pursue  separate  lines  of  in- 
vestigation for  gravitative,  or  thermal,  or  chemical,  or  vital, 
or  psychical,  or  social  phenomena ;  but  in  reality  these 
phenomena  are  ever  intermingled  and  interactive.  Let  us,  for 
example,  arrive  at  the  widest  possible  generalization  respect- 
ing astronomic  phenomena ;  we  have  still  not  constructed  a 
body  of  doctrine  concerning  the  universe,  but  only  concern- 
ing a  portion  of  it.       It   is  only  when  the  deepest  truths 


40  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  i. 

respecting  physical,  chemical,  vital,  psychical,  and  social  phe- 
nomena come  to  be  regarded  as  corollaries  of  some  universal 
truth — some  truth  common  to  all  these  orders  of  phenomena 
— that  such  a  body  of  doctrine  becomes  possible. 

Such  a  body  of  doctrine  is  what  we  call  philosophy  in  dis- 
stinction  from  science.  While  science  studies  the  parts, 
philosophy  studies  the  whole.  While  science,  in  its  highest 
development,  is  an  aggregate  of  general  doctrines,  philosophy, 
in  its  highest  development,  must  be  a  Synthesis  of  all  general 
doctrines  into  a  universal  doctrine.  When  Lagrange,  by  bis 
magnificent  application  of  the  principle  of  virtual  velocities 
to  all  orders  of  mechanical  phenomena,  fused  into  an  organic 
whole  the  various  branches  of  mechanics  which  had  hitherto 
been  studied  separately,  this  was  a  scientific  achievement  of 
the  highest  order.  When  Grove  and  Helmholtz,  by  showing 
that  the  various  modes  of  molar  and  molecular  motion  can  be 
transformed  into  each  other,  furnished  a  common  basis  for 
the  study  of  heat,  light,  electricity,  and  sensible  motion,  the 
result,  though  on  the  very  verge  of  philosophy,  still  remained, 
on  the  whole,  within  the  limits  of  science.  But  when  the 
principle  of  virtual  velocities  and  the  principle  of  the  correl- 
lation  of  forces  were  both  shown  to  be  corollaries  of  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  persistence  of  force — were  both  shown  to  be 
necessitated  by  the  axiom  that  no  force  is  ever  lost — then  the 
result  reached  was  a  philosophical  result.  So  when  Von  Baer 
discovered  that  the  evolution  of  a  living  organism  from  the 
germ-cell  is  a  progressive  change  from  homogeneity  of  struc- 
ture to  heterogeneity  of  structure,  he  discovered  a  scientific 
truth.  But  when  Herbert  Spencer  applied  Von  Baer's  for- 
mula to  the  evolution  of  the  solar  system,  of  the  earth,  of  the 
totality  of  life  upon  its  surface,  of  society,  of  conscious  intel- 
ligence, and  the  products  of  conscious  intelligence,  then  he 
discovered  a  truth  in  philosophy, — a  truth  applicable  not 
merely  to  one  order  of  phenomena,  but  to  all  orders. 

These  illustrations,  however,  do  not  bring  out  distinctly 


en.  ii.]  THE  SCOPE  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  41 

enough  the  point  which  I  am  endeavouring  to  elucidate.  The 
difference  between  philosophy  and  science,  like  the  difference 
between  science  and  common  knowledge,  is  a  difference  in 
degree  only.  But  the  distinction  is  nevertheless  a  broad  one, 
and  as  such  is  somewhat  understated  in  the  foregoing  para- 
graph, because  the  examples  there  cited  on  the  side  of  science 
are  all  taken  from  that  transcendental  region  of  science  in 
which  its  problems  begin  to  have  implications  almost  a? 
universal  as  the  problems  of  philosophy.  Thoroughly  to 
estimate  the  character  of  the  distinction,  we  shall  do  well  to 
start  somewhat  further  down,  and  note  what  the  science  is 
which  is  contained  in  text-books  or  in  original  monographs. 
Viewed  from  this  stand-point,  a  science  like  biology,  for 
example,  has  for  its  subject-matter  questions  concerning  the 
changes  undergone  by  starch  or  fibrine  within  the  stomach, 
the  distribution  of  cells  and  fibres  in  the  tissue  of  the  brain, 
the  relations  of  blood-supply  to  the  functional  activity  of  any 
organ,  the  manner  in  which  the  optic  nerve  is  made  to  respond 
diversely  to  rays  of  different  refrangibility  impinging  upon 
the  retina,  or  the  growth  of  bone  from  sundry  centres  of 
ossification  starting  here  and  there  in  the  primitive  cartilage  ; 
or  again  such  questions  as  concern  the  generic  or  ordinal 
relationships  of  barnacles,  or  bats,  or  elephants,  the  homologies 
between  a  bird's  wing  and  a  dog's  fore-leg,  the  geographical 
distribution  of  butterflies,  or  ferns,  or  pine-trees,  the  typical 
structures  of  vertebrates  or  annulosa,  or  the  kinships  between 
fossil  forms  of  the  horse  and  pig.  In  these  questions,  and  a 
thousand  others  like  them,  we  see  at  once' that  we  are  in  the 
special  domain  of  biology,  and  that  our  reasonings  belong 
unmistakably  to  science,  and  not  to  common  knowledge  on 
he  one  hand,  or  to  philosophy  on  the  other.  If  now.  after 
mastering  countless  details  of  this  sort,  we  go  en  to  inquire 
into  the  cause  of  the  bilateral  symmetry  of  lobsters  and 
centipedes,  or  of  the  spiral  arrangement  of  leaves  around  a 
Btem;  if  we  seek  to  generalize  the  phenomena  of  heredity, 


42  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  1 

or  hybridity,  or  adaptation,  or,  if  we  endeavour,  with  Mt 
Darwin,    to   determine  the   agency  of   natural   selection  in 
modifying  the  characteristics   of   species ;    we   are   still   no 
doubt  within  the  territory  of  science,  but  we  have  arrived  at 
a  region  in  which  the  inquiries  take  so  wide  a  sweep,  and  the 
results  have  so  immediate  a  bearing  upon   other  inquiries 
outside  of  biology,  that  our  study  may  seem  to  demand  some 
especially  descriptive  name.     Accordingly  we  find  the  phrase 
"  transcendental  biology "  employed  by  French  writers,  and 
elsewhere  we  meet  with  the  significant  title  "philosophical 
biology."     Still  more  significantly  Mr.  Spencer,  whose  treatise 
on  biology  is  occupied  with  researches  of  this  high  order, 
speaks  of  them  as  constituting  a  domain  of  "special  philo- 
sophy."    That  is  to  say,  just  where  this  science  has  reached 
the  widest  generality  consistent  with  its  being  called  biology 
at  all,  it  is  characterized  as  a  special  kind  of  philosophy.     But 
one  more  step  is  needed  to  reach  the  level  of  that  philosophy 
which  need  not  be   qualified   as  special.      If,  pursuing  the 
same   line    of    advance,   we    proceed — as    I    shall   hereafter 
do — with  the  aid  of  the  most  general  principles  of  heredity, 
adaptation,  and  natural  selection,   to  elucidate   some   com- 
prehensive theory  of  life ;  and  if  we  contemplate  this  theory 
of  life,  on  the  one  hand,  as  dependent  on  certain  universal 
laws  of  matter,  motion,  and  force,  and  on  the  other  hand,  as 
furnishing  a  basis  for  sundry  doctrines  relating  to  intellectual, 
moral,  and  social  phenomena ;  then  we  have  clearly  come  into 
the  domain  of  philosophy,  strictly  so  called.     And  the  result 
would  have  been  the  same  had  we  started  from  astronomy, 
or  physics,  or  any  other  science;    save  that  nowhere  else, 
perhaps,  could  the  true  character  of  the  process  have  been  so 
fully  illustrated  as  in  the  case  of  biology — the  great  central 
science  upon  the  theorems  of  which  so  closely  depend  the 
views   which  we  must  hold  concerning   ourselves   and  our 
relations  to  the  universe  about  us. 

That  such  transcendental  inquiries  as  those  last  mentioned 


ch.  11.]  THE  SCOPE  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  43 

belong  strictly  to  philosophy,  and  constitute  the  all-essential 
part  of  it,  can  be  questioned  by  none  save  those  who,  with 
Hegel,  would  make  philosophy  synonymous  with  ontology. 
Upon  these  it  is  incumbent,  if  they  would  establish  their 
position,  to  dispose  of  the  facts  and  reasonings  which  have 
made  the  relativity  of  all  knowledge  the  fundamental  theorem 
of  modern  psychology.  For  us  it  may  suffice  to  point  out 
that  the  province  of  philosophy,  as  here  defined,  includes  all 
such  inquiries  into  cosmology,  into  psychology  and  ethics  and 
religion,  as  philosophers  have  occupied  themselves  with  in 
the  past,  excepting  those  only  in  which  the  necessary  limita- 
tions of  human  thinking  have  been  expressly  or  tacitly 
ignored.  Far  from  dethroning  philosophy,  we  are  assigning 
to  it  a  scope  as  wide  as  was  recognized  for  it  by  the  early 
Greeks;  while  in  approaching  its  problems,  we  are  enabled 
to  profit  by  that  physical  investigation  which  Sokrates  not 
unjustly  stigmatized,  in  his  own  day,  as  hopelessly  mislead- 
ing, but  which  now,  conducted  upon  sounder  methods,  is  our 
surest  guide  to  the  knowledge  of  truth. 

Thus  is  philosophy  vindicated,  and  its  function  is  seen  to 
be  as  important  as  that  of  science.  Eejecting,  as  we  were 
compelled  to  do,  the  metaphysical  assumption  that  philosophy 
is  a  kind  of  knowledge  generically  distinct  from  all  other 
kinds,  and  asserting  for  it  a  common  root  with  science  and 
with  ordinary  knowledge,  we  have  nevertheless  seen  that  it 
differs  from  the  two  latter,  much  in  the  same  way  that  the  one 
of  them  differs  from  the  other.  Accurate  quantitative  pre- 
vision is,  in  the  nature  of  things,  confined  to  the  most  special 
of  the  special  inquiries  with  which  science  is  concerned. 
Limited  as  it  is  to  individual  cases  occurring  under  general 
laws,  it  must  be  left  on  one  side  in  enumerating  the  distinc- 
tive features  of  philosophy.  But  from  what  has  been  brought 
forward,  it  at  once  appears  that  philosophy  differs  from  science 
in  the  greater  generality,  abstractness,  and  remoteness  of 
the  relations  which  it  formulates,  and  also  in  its  larger  and 


44  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

more  complex  organization  of  general  truths  into  a  coherent 
system.  Or,  to  sum  up  by  a  set  of  rough  and  general,  though 
not  severely  accurate,  contrasts  (which,  after  all  the  foregoing 
explanation,  we  may  safely  do) : — Common  Knowledge  ex- 
presses in  a  single  formula  a  particular  truth  respecting  a 
particular  group  of  phenomena  ;  Science  expresses  in  a  single 
formula  a  general  truth  respecting  an  entire  order  of  pheno- 
mena ;  Philosophy  expresses  in  a  single  formula  a  universal 
truth  respecting  the  whole  world  of  phenomena. 

Philosophy,  therefore,  remains,  as  of  old,  the  study  of  the 
Cosmos, — save  that  it  is  the  study  of  phenomena  not  of 
noumena,  of  evolution  not  of  creation,  of  laws  not  of 
purposes,  of  the  How  ?  not  of  the  Why  ? 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE     TEST     OF     TRUTH. 


Having  now  indicated  the  limits  of  human  knowledge, 
and  marked  out  the  province  of  that  most  highly  organized 
kind  of  knowledge  called  philosophy,  it  becomes  us  next 
to  inquire  what  are  the  sources  of  knowledge,  and  what  is  its 
guaranty  ?  What  is  the  test  of  truth  which  our  philosophy 
shall  recognize  as  valid  ?     And  first,  what  is  Truth  ? 

Truth  may  be  provisionally  defined  as  the  exact  corre- 
spondence between  the  subjective  order  of  our  conceptions 
and  the  objective  order  of  the  relations  among  things.  Now 
since  by  the  very  constitution  of  the  knowing  process  we 
are  debarred  from  knowing  things  in  themselves,  since  our 
highest  philosophy  must  for  ever  concern  itself  with  phe- 
nomena and  can  never  hope  to  deal  with  objective  realities, 
the  question  arises,  how  can  we  ever  ascertain  the  objective 
order  of  the  relations  among  things  ?  How  can  we  compare 
fliis  objective  order  with  the  subjective  order  of  our  concep- 
tions? And  without  such  comparison,  how  can  we  ever 
be  certain  that  the  two  orders  correspond  ?  Can  we  then 
ever  hope  to  possess  an  objective  canon  of  truth  ?  And  if 
we  cannot  obtain  any  such  canon,  are  we  not  irresistibly 
driven  to  Idealism  or  to  Scepticism, — to  the  philosophy 
which  denies  the  existence  of  any  objective  reality,  or  to  the 
philosophy  which  denies  that  truth  can  be  attained  at  all  ? 


16  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

Such  questions  as  these  have  arisen  whenever  in  the  long 
career  of  philosophic  inquiry  an  approach  has  been  made 
toward   demonstrating  the  relativity  of  knowledge.     They 
dictated  the  criticisms  of  Leibnitz  upon  Locke's  doctrine  that 
all  knowledge  is  the  result  of  experience.     The  Cartesians 
had   postulated  the  existence  of  innate  ideas ;  a  postulate 
which  was  destroyed  when  Locke   showed  that  there  can  be 
no  ideas  until  the  mind  has  come  into  contact  with  environ- 
ing agencies.     But  to  Locke's  reassertion  of  the  scholastic 
formula,  Nihil  est  in  intellects,  quod  non,  prius  in  sensu,  Leib- 
nitz added  the  important  qualification,  nisi  intellectus  vpie. 
Rejecting,   equally    with  Locke,  the    Cartesian    doctrine  of 
innate  ideas,  recognizing  fully  that  there  can  be  no  know- 
ledge until   the  mind  has  been  awakened  into  activity  by 
the  presence  of  objects  to  be  cognized,  Leibnitz  nevertheless 
maintained  that  in  each  act  of  cognition  there  is  an  element 
furnished  by  the  mind  as  well  as  an  element  furnished  by 
the  environment, — that  the  subject  is  not  passive,  but  co- 
operates actively   with  the  object.     In  all  this,  let  us  note, 
there  is  nothing  that  conflicts  with  the  established  doctrine 
of  the  relativity  of  knowledge.     Ife  will  be  remembered  that 
in  our  first  chapter   the   necessary   cooperation  of  subject 
and  object  in  every  act  of  cognition  was  shown  to  be  one  of 
those  very  facts  which  enforce  the  conclusion  that  all  know- 
ledge is  of  the  Eelative.     No  competent  psychologist  would 
now  subscribe  to  the  Lockian  opinion  that  previous  to  the 
reception  of  experiences  the  mind   is  like  a  blank   sheet. 
Physiology  has  taught  us  better  than  that, — has  taught  us 
that  mind  is  strictly  correlated  with  a  complex  nervous  sys- 
tem, which,  according  to  minute  peculiarities  of  organization, 
modifies  the  experiences  resulting  from  its  intercourse  with 
environing  agencies.     We,  therefore,  recognize  as  fully  as 
Leibnitz,  that  the  subject  actively  cooperates  with  the  object 
in  each  act  of  consciousness.     And  we  insist  that,  for  that 
very  reason,  our  knowledge,  being  the  product  of  subjective 


ch.  in.]  THE  TEST  OF  TRUTH.  47 

and  objective  factors,  can  never  be  regarded  as  a  knowledge 
of  the  objective  factor  by  itself.  This  is,  indeed,  the  import 
of  our  illustration,  above  given,  from  the  phenomena  of  vibra- 
tory motion.  Since  a  homogeneous  phenomenon,  like  the 
undulation  of  molecules,  can  produce  in  us  such  hetero- 
geneous states  of  consciousness  as  the  feelings  of  sound,  heat, 
or  colour,  we  argued  that  the  constitution  of  the  percipient 
mind  must  modify  in  every  case  the  character  of  the  phe- 
nomenon perceived  ;  and  that,  therefore,  the  phenomenon 
cannot  be  regarded  as  like  the  external  noumenon,  its  part- 
cause.  What  is  this  but  saying,  with  Leibnitz,  that  the 
subject  actively  cooperates  with  the  object  in  each  act  of 
conscious  knowledge  ?  The  Leibnitzian  criticism,  therefore, 
only  serves  to  bring  out  in  a  stronger  light  the  doctrine 
that  all  knowledge  is  of  the  Eelative.  Though  powerful 
against  the  hypothesis  of  Locke,  it  is  powerless  against  the 
position  held  by  modern  psychology. 

Such  a  result,  however,  was  the  farthest  possible  from 
Leibnitz's  thoughts.  Far  from  intending  to  re-enforce  the 
doctrine  of  relativity  as  shadowed  forth  in  the  writings  of 
the  Lockian  school,  his  object  was  to  crush  it  at  the  start 
by  showing  that  we  can  obtain  a  criterion  of  absolute  or 
objective  knowledge.  And  he  accordingly  gave  to  his  state- 
ment an  interpretation  quite  inconsistent  with  the  doc- 
trine of  the  relativity  of  knowledge  as  we  are  now  obliged 
to  hold  it.  He  held  that  in  many  acts  of  cognition,  the 
mind  contributes  an  element  of  certainty  which  could 
never  have  been  gained  from  experience,  which  could 
never  have  flowed  from  the  intercourse  of  the  mind  with 
its  environment ;  and  that  propositions  obtained  by  such 
acts  of  cognition  are  Necessary  Truths, — truths  which  are 
*;rue  of  the  objective  order  of  things  as  well  of  the  sub- 
jective order. 

After  Hume,  by  drawing  out  the  Lockian  doctrine  to  its 
extreme  corollaries,  had  enunciated  a  set  .  •?  conclusions  which 


48  COSMIC  PIIILVSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

deny  all  that  the  doctrine  of  relativity  explicitly  denies, 
but  which  differ  from  the  doctrine  of  relativity  in  ignoring 
what  the  latter  implicitly  asserts,  the  Leibnitzian  theorem 
was  again  taken  up  by  Kant,  who  made  it  his  own  by  his 
manner  of  illustrating  it,  and  whose  arguments  on  this  topic 
still  carry  conviction  to  the  minds  of  many  able  metaphysicians. 
The  immense  importance  of  Kant's  views  makes  it  desirable 
for  us  to  give  them  some  farther  consideration  than  is  im- 
plied in  merely  stating  them. 

In  the  first  place,  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  Kant 
maintained,  no  less  stoutly,  and  perhaps  no  less  consistently, 
than  Hume,  the  doctrine  of  the  relativity  of  all  knowledge. 
As  Mr.  Lewes  truly  observes,  "the  great  outcome  of  the 
Kritik  was  a  demonstration  of  the  vanity  of  ontological  specu- 
lation."     Kant  would  have  repudiated  Schelliir;  and  Hegel, 
as  he  did  in  fact  openly  repudiate  the  claims  of  Fichte  to  be 
considered  his  legitimate  successor  and  expounder.     It  was 
Kant  who  first  showed  that  every  hypothesis  which  we  can 
frame  respecting  the  Absolute,  the  Infinite,  the  First  Cause, 
or  the  ultimate  essences  of  things,  must  inevitably  commit 
us  to  alternative  impossibilities  of  thought.     It  was  Kant 
also  who  showed  psychologically,  from  the  necessary  coopera- 
tion of  subject  and  object  in  each  act  of  cognition,  that  a 
knowledge  of  the  pure  object  as  unmodified  by  the  subject  is 
for  ever  impossible.     Kant  held  that  a  phenomenon,  inas- 
much as  it  is  an  appearance,  presupposes  a   noumenon — a 
thing  which  appears, — but  this  noumenon,  which  is  a  neces- 
sary postulate,  is  only  a  negation  to  us.     It  can  never  be 
positively  known  ;  it  can  only  be  known  under  the  conditions 
of  sense  and  understanding,  ergo,  as  a  phenomenon.     "  And 
accordingly,"  says  Kant,  "  though  the  existence  of  an  external 
world  is  a  necessary  postulate,  its  existence  is  only  logically 
affirmed."     Of  its  existence  out  of  relation  to  our  conscious- 
ness we  can  know  nothing  ;  and  it  consequently  appears  that 
'  we  can  never  predicate  of  our  knowledge  that  it  has  objec- 


ch.  in.]  TEE  TEST  OF  TRUTH.  49 

tive  truth."1     Even  so,  reiterates  Kant,  in  the  introduction 
to  the  Kritik,  "  to  attempt  to  transcend  the  sphere  of  the 
subjective  is  vain  and  hopeless ;  nor  is  it  wise  to  deplore  that 
we  are  'cabin'd,  cribbed,  confined' within  that  sphere  from 
which  we  never  can  escape.     As  well  might  the  bird,  when 
feeling  the  resistance  of  the  air,  wish  that  it  were  in  vacuo, 
thinking  that  there  it  might  fly  with  perfect  ease.    Let  us  there- 
fore content  ourselves  with  our  own  kingdom,  instead  of  cross- 
ing perilous  seas  in  search  of  kingdoms  inaccessible  to  man." 
Up  to  this  point  we  may  regard  Kant  as  equally  with 
Hume  the  precursor  of  the  modern  philosophy  of  relativity. 
In  the  above   conclusions   there  is   little   to   which   Plume 
would  have  objected.     But  when  we  come  to  examine  the 
Test  of  Truth  set  up  by  the  two  great  adversaries,  the  point 
of  irreconcilable  antagonism  between  them  becomes  apparent. 
Though  conducted  with  a  wider  historic  experience,  and  with 
more  extensive  psychologic  resources,  the  combat  was  essen- 
tially the  same   which   had   been  waged  in   the   preceding 
epoch  between  Leibnitz  and  Locke.    Hume  had  said  :  the  sole 
criterion  of  truth  is  uniformity  of  experience ;  that  to  which 
human  experience  has  invariably  testified,  we  are  compelled 
to  accept  as  true ;  though  it  may  not  be  true  of  the  pure 
objective  order  of  things,  it  is  true  for  us, — true  of  the  order 
of  things  as  presented  to  our  intelligence.    Kant,  on  the  other 
hand,  distinguished  between  contingent  and  necessary  truths  ; 
and  asserted  that  while  uniformity  of  experience  is  a  suffi- 
cient criterion  of  contingent  truth,  it  is  not  a  trustworthy 
criterion  of  necessary  truth.     For  experience,  says  Kant,  can 
tell  us  that  certain  phenomena  always  occur  in  certain  rela- 
tions ;  but  it  cannot  tell  us  that  they  must  always  so  occur. 
Uniformity  of  experience  cannot  assure  us  that  two  and  two 
must  make  four,  or  that  two  straight  lines  cannot  enclose  a 
space.    We  cannot  conceive  that  these  things  should  be  other- 
wise, and  we  must  therefore  know  them,  independently  o!' 
1  Lewea,  History  of  Philosophy,  3rd  edition,  vol.  ii.  pp.  471,  472. 
VOL.  L  E 


BO  COSMIC  PEILOSOrnT.  [pt.  i. 

experience,  and  by  the  very  constitution  of  our  minds  This 
element  of  necessity  and  universality  is  the  element  which 
the  mind  furnishes  in  the  duplex  act  of  cognition. 

This  theorem  contains  two  assertions,  the  one  implicit, 
the  other  explicit.  It  asserts  implicitly  that  the  subjective 
element  in  cognition  can  be  isolated  from  the  objective 
element,  at  least  so  far  as  to  be  independently  defined.  It 
asserts  explicitly  that  absolute  uniformity  of  experience  is 
inadequate  to  produce  in  us  the  belief  in  the  necessity  of  any 
given  relation  among  phenomena.  "With  reference  to  the 
first  of  these  assertions,  I  shall  be  content  with  citing  the 
excellent  remarks  of  Mr.  Lewes : — 

"There  was  an  initial  misconception  in  Kant's  attempt 
to  isolate  the  elements  of  an  indissoluble  act.  It  was  one 
thing  to  assume  that  there  are  necessarily  two  coefficients 
in  the  function ;  another  thing  to  assume  that  these  could 
be  isolated  and  studied  apart.  It  was  one  thing  to  say, 
Here  is  an  organism  with  its  inherited  structure,  and  apti- 
tudes dependent  on  that  structure,  which  must  be  consi- 
dered as  necessarily  determining  the  forms  in  which  it  will 
be  affected  by  external  agencies,  so  that  all  experience  will  be 
a  compound  of  subjective  and  objective  conditions ;  another 
thing  to  say,  Here  is  the  pure  d  priori  element  in  every  ex- 
perience, the  form  which  the  mind  impresses  on  the  matter 
given  externally.  The  first  was  an  almost  inevitable  con- 
clusion ;  the  second  was  a  fiction.  Psychology,  if  it  can  show 
us  anything,  can  show  the  absolute  impossibility  of  our  dis- 
criminating the  objective  from  the  subjective  elements.  In 
the  first  place,  the  attempt  would  only  be  possible  on  the 
ground  that  we  could,  at  any  time  and  in  any  way,  disengage 
Thought  from  its  content ;  separate  in  Feeling  the  object  as 
it  is  out  of  all  relation  to  Sensibility,  or  the  subject  as  pure 
subject.  If  we  could  do  this  in  one  instance,  we  should  have 
a  basis  for  the  investigation.  The  chemist  who  has  learned 
to  detect  the  existence  of  an  acid  by  its  reactions  in  one  casa 


ch.  in.]  THE  TEST  OF  TRUTH.  51 

can  by  its  reactions  determine  it  in  other  cases.  TTaving 
experience  of  an  acid  and  an  alkaloid,  each  apart  from  the 
other,  he  can  separate  them  when  finding  them  combined  in 
a  salt,  or  he  can  combine  them  when  he  finds  them  separate. 
His  analysis  and  synthesis  are  possible,  because  he  has  else- 
where learned  the  nature  of  each  element  separately.  But  such 
analysis  or  synthesis  is  impossible  with  the  objective  and  sub- 
jective elements  of  thought.  Neither  element  is  ever  given 
alone.  Pure  thought  and  pure  matter  are  unknown  quan- 
tities, to  be  reached  by  no  equation.  The  thought  is  neces- 
sarily and  universally  subject-object ;  matter  is  necessarily, 
and  to  us  universally,  object-subject.  Thought  is  only  called 
into  existence  under  appropriate  conditions  ;  and  in  the  objec- 
tive stimulus,  the  object  and  subject  are  merged,  as  acid  and 
base  are  merged  in  the  salt.  When  I  say  that  the  sensation 
of  light  is  a  compound  of  objective  vibrations  and  retinal 
susceptibilit}r,  I  use  language  which  is  intelligible  and  ser- 
viceable for  my  purpose  ;  but  I  must  not  imagine  that  the 
external  object  named  vibration  is  the  Ding  an  sich,  the  pure 
object  out  of  all  relation  to  sensibility ;  nor  that  the  retinal 
susceptibility  is  pure  subject,  involving  no  vibratory  element. 
Kant  himself  would  assure  me  that  the  vibrations  were  as 
subjective  as  the  susceptibility.  Indeed,  seeing  that  he 
denied  altogether  the  possibility  of  a  knowledge  of  pure 
?bject,  the  Ding  an  sich,  it  was  a  violent  strain  of  logic  to 
conclude  that  in  thought  he  could  separate  this  unknowable 
object  from  the  subject  knowing  it."1 

A  violent  strain  of  logic  it  was,  no  doubt.  After  proving, 
almost  to  superfluity,  that  subject  and  object  are  inseparably 
united  in  each  act  of  cognition,  and  after  triumphantly  using 
this  fact  against  the  ontologists  who  pretended  to  a  knowledge 
jf  the  objective  reality  in  itself,  Kant  turns  around  and  tells 
us  that  we  may  after  all  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  subjective 
reality  in  itself!  Though  we  can  never  determine  what  the 
1  Lewes,  History  of  Philosophy,  3rd  edition,  vol.  ii.  p.  483. 

E    2 


52  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  I 

environment  furnishes  in  the  duplex  act  of  cognition,  we  can 
none  the  less  determine  exactly  what  the  mind  furnishes.  By 
this  wonderful  inconsistency  Kant  opened  the  way  for  the  later 
German  idealism.  Through  this  inlet  entered  Fichte,  Schel- 
ling,  and  Hegel,  with  their  swarm  of  mediseval  conceptions, 
to  perturb  the  onward  course  of  philosophy.  Kant  might  in 
vain  protest.  It  was  in  vain  that  "  he  showed  that  the  sub- 
jective d  priori  nature  of  these  truths  was  peremptory  proof 
of  their  objective  falsehood ;  that  they  could  not  be  truths 
of  things,  precisely  because  they  were  purely  subjective  con- 
ditions of  thought."  Once  granted  that  the  subject  could  of 
itself  possess  truth  independent  of  experience,  independent 
of  intercourse  with  the  objective  environment,  the  inference 
was  inevitable  that  the  subject  might  impose  its  necessities 
upon  the  object,  that  the  possibilities  of  thought  might  be 
rendered  coextensive  with  the  possibilities  of  things.  Thus 
Kant,  after  laboriously  barring  out  ontology  at  the  main 
entrance,  carelessly  let  it  slip  in  at  the  back  door.  Thus,  by 
admitting  the  possibility  of  arriving  at  truth  otherwise  than 
through  experience,  did  he  render  nugitory  his  elaborate 
demonstration  of  the  relativity  of  knowledge.1 

This  will  appear  still  more  evident  as  we  proceed  to 
examine  the  second  portion  of  Kant's  theorem, — the  assertion 
that  uniformity  of  experience,  however  long  continued,  can 
never  afford  us  a  sufficient  guaranty  of  necessary  truth.  The 
argument  here  is  at  first  sight  a  plausible  one.  Any  parti- 
cular experience  can  only  tell  us  that  a  phenomenon,  or  a 

1  "The  truth  is,"  says  Mr.  Lewes,  in  his  new  work  just  now  appearing, 
"  Kant  tried  to  hold  contradictory  positions.  The  whole  drift  of  his  polemic 
against  the  ontologists  was  to  show  that  knowledge  was  limited,  relative,  and 
could  not  extend  beyond  the  sphere  of  possible  experience  ;  but  while  thus 
cutting  the  ground  from  umler  the  ontologists,  he  was  also  anxious  to  cut  the 
ground  from  the  sensationalists  and  sceptics,  and  therefore  tried  to  prove  that 
the  Mind  brought  with  it  an  d  priori  fund  of  knowledge."— Problems  of 
Life  aval  Mind,  vol.  i.  p.  453.  In  the  present  chapter  I  quote  by  preference 
from  Mr.  Lewes,  because  it  seems  to  me  that  he  has  ill  nitrated  both  the 
strength  and  the  weakness  of  Kant's  position  (and  thus,  virtudty,  of  all 
modern  metaphy  des)  more  thoroughly  and  more  clearly  than  any  other  critic 


CHiu.]  THE  TEST  OF  TRUTH.  63 

relation  between  phenomena,  is  thus  and  thus;  not  that  it 
must  be  thus  and  thus.  And  any  number  of  experiences  can 
only  tell  us  that  certain  phenomena  have  hitherto  always 
occurred  in  certain  relations ;  not  that  they  must  always 
and  for  ever  occur  in  the  same  relations.  Or,  as  Dr.  Brown 
phrases  it,  "  Experience  teaches  us  the  past  only,  not  the 
future."  Let  us  take  as  an  illustration,  our  belief  that  every 
event  must  universally  and  necessarily  have  a  cause, — that  no 
change  can  ever  take  place  anywhere  without  an  antecedent. 
This  is  what  the  Kantian  would  call  a  necessary  truth.  And 
the  Kantian  would  say,  All  that  experience  can  tell  us  is,  that 
in  an  immense  number  of  instances,  and  in  an  immense 
number  of  places,  every  event  which  has  occurred  has  had  a 
cause.  It  cannot  tell  us  that  in  all  future  instances,  and  in 
all  places  throughout  the  universe  every  event  must  have  a 
cause.  To  test  such  a  belief  by  experience  would  require 
that  our  experience  should  be  extended  through  infinite  time 
and  infinite  space,  which  is,  of  course,  impossible.  Without 
such  infinite  and  eternal  experience  we  can  never  be  sure 
but  sooner  or  later,  somewhere  or  other,  some  event  may 
happen  without  a  cause,  and  thus  overturn  our  belief.  Never- 
theless, we  have  such  a  belief — an  invariable  and  invincible 
belief.  And  since  our  limited  experience  cannot  have  pro- 
duced such  a  belief,  it  must  have  arisen  in  us  independently 
of  experience ;  it  must  be  necessitated  by  the  very  constitu- 
tion of  our  thinking  minds;  and  must  therefore  be  universally 
and  necessarily  true.     Such  is  the  Kantian  argument. 

Upon  all  this  it  is  an  obvious  comment,  that,  if  the  belief 
in  the  universality  of  causation  is  an  inherent  belief  neces- 
sitated by  the  very  constitution  of  our  thinking  minds,  it  is 
a  belief  which  ought  to  be  found  wherever  we  find  a  thinking 
mind.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  this  is  not  the  case. 
Children,  savages,  and  other  persons  with  undeveloped  powers 
of  reasoning  believe  in  particular  acts  of  causation,  but  not 
in  the  universality  of  causation — a  conception  which  is  too 


54  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  i. 

abstract  for  their  crude  intelligence  to  grasp.  Nay,  I  have 
known  educated  people  who  maintained  that  there  might  be 
regions  of  the  universe  where  the  law  does  not  hold,  and  who 
thought  it  hardly  safe  to  deny  that  even  on  our  own  planet 
events  might  occasionally  happen  without  any  determin- 
ing antecedent.  Besides  which,  all  those  who  still  accept 
the  doctrine  of  the  so-called  "Freedom  of  the  Will,"  impli- 
citly, and  sometimes  explicitly,  assert  that  the  entire  class  of 
phenomena  known  as  volitions  are  not  causally  determined 
by  groups  of  foregoing  circumstances.  The  belief  in  the 
universality  of  causation  was  certainly  not  prevalent  in 
antiquity,  or  in  the  Middle  Ages  :  its  comparative  prevalence 
in  modern  times  is  due  to  that  vast  organization  of  expe- 
riences which  we  call  physical  science ;  and  even  at  the 
present  day  it  is  not  persistently  held,  except  by  those  who 
are  accustomed  to  scientific  reasoning,  or  to  the  careful 
analysis  of  their  own  mental  operations. 

But  this  argument  does  not  strike  to  the  root  of  the  matter, 
for  though  the  belief  in  the  universality  of  causation  is  not 
a  universal  belief,  the  belief  in  its  necessity  in  each  particular 
case  is  undoubtedly  universal.  And,  as  we  have  seen,  the 
Kantian  denies  the  power  of  accumulated  experience  to 
produce  the  belief  that  the  future  must  inevitably  resemble 
the  past.  He  reminds  us  that  for  many  ages  it  was  supposed 
that  all  swans  were  white,  until  finally  swans  were  discovered 
in  Australia  which  were  not  white  ;  and  he  asks  what  better 
warrant  can  uniformity  of  experience  give  us  than  it  gave 
in  this  case.  If  after  three  thousand  years  a  black  swan 
turns  up,  must  we  not  suppose  it  possible  that  in  three 
thousand  years  more  we  may  see  a  candle  burn  in  an  atmo- 
sphere of  pure  nitrogen  ? 

In  answering  this  query,  let  us  begin  by  observing  that  in 
many  cases,  the  mere  accumulation  of  experiences  is  a  matter 
of  but  little  consequence.  A  child  believes,  after  one  expe 
rience,  that  fire  will  burn.    When  the  chemist  has  shown,  by 


ch.  in.]  THE  TEST  OF  TRUTH  65 

a  single  experiment,  that  nitrogen  will  not  support  combus- 
tion, we  believe  that  it  will  be  just  the  same  through  all 
future  time.  If  we  withhold  our  assent,  "  it  is  from  a  doubt 
whether  the  one  experiment  was  properly  made,  not  whether 
if  properly  made  it  would  be  conclusive."  *  Here,  then,  as 
Mr.  Mill  says,  "  is  a  general  law  of  nature  inferred  without 
hesitation  from  a  single  instance ;  a  universal  proposition 
from  a  singular  one.  Now  mark  another  case,  and  contrast 
it  with  this.  Not  all  the  instances  which  have  been  observed 
since  the  beginning  of  the  world,  in  support  of  the  general  pro- 
position that  all  crows  are  black,  would  be  deemed  a  sufficient 
presumption  of  the  truth  of  the  proposition,  to  outweigh  the 
testimony  of  one  unexceptionable  witness  who  should  affirm 
that  in  some  region  of  the  earth  not  fully  explored,  he  had 
caught  and  examined  a  crow,  and  had  found  it  to  be  grey." 

What  is  the  explanation  of  this  difference  ?  "  Why  is  a 
single  instance  in  some  cases  sufficient  for  a  complete  induc- 
tion, while  in  others  myriads  of  concurring  instances,  without 
a  single  exception  known  or  presumed,  go  such  a  very  little 
way  towards  establishing  a  universal  proposition  ? "  The 
solution  is  to  be  sought  in  the  extreme  complexity  of  the 
conditions  in  the  one  case  as  contrasted  with  their  extreme 
simplicity  in  the  other.  The  scientific  thinker  does  not  con- 
sider blackness  a  necessary  attribute  of  a  crow,  because  he 
believes  that  some  inappreciable  variation  in  the  nutrition  of 
the  bird,  by  altering  the  deposit  of  pigment  in  the  feathers, 
might  give  us  a  grey  or  a  white  crow  instead  of  a  black  one. 
Or  if  we  do  not  reflect  upon  the  matter  so  carefully  as  this, 
we  at  least  regard  a  crow  as  a  very  complex  aggregate  of  con- 
ditions and  results,  and  find  no  difficulty  in  imagining  that 
some  of  the  conditions  varying  might  affect  the  sum-total  of 
results.  Or  if  this  also  be  taken  to  imply  too  much  conscious 
rhilosophizing  in  us,  it  is  undeniable  that  our  conception  of  a 
cro  ,  as  of  any  other  vertebrate,  is  made  up  of  a  large  number 
1  Mill,  System  of  Logic,  vol   i.  p.  352. 


56  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pi.  L 

of  conceptions,  of  which  the  conception  of  blackness  is  not 
the  one  upon  which  the  specific  identity  of  the  sum-total 
depends.  We  have  had  experience  of  bay  and  of  sorrel 
horses,  of  black  and  of  white  bears,  of  grey  and  of  tortoise- 
shell  cats ;  and,  in  accordance  with  such  experience,  we 
find  it  perfectly  easy  to  regard  any  other  animal  as  varying 
colour  while  retaining  its  specific  identity.  Our  belief  that 
all  crows  are  black  rests,  therefore,  upon  purely  negative 
evidence, — upon  the  absence  of  any  experience  of  crows  that 
are  not  black  ;  and  no  amount  of  negative  evidence  can  out- 
weigh a  single  well-established  item  of  positive  evidence. 

Quite  otherwise  would  it  be  if  our  explorer  should  assert 
that  he  had  discovered  crows  destitute  of  a  vertebrate 
skeleton.  We  should  reply,  with  confidence,  that  in  the 
absence  of  such  a  skeleton  the  animal  in  question  could  not 
have  been  a  crow.  And  the  justice  of  the  reply  becomes 
apparent  when  we  turn  to  the  case  of  the  nitrogen,  where 
the  conditions  are  so  simple  that  we  can  keep  them  all  in 
mind  at  once,  and  where  we  can  imagine  no  variation  which 
shall  not  at  once  alter  the  whole  character  of  the  case.  We 
cannot  imagine  nitrogen  supporting  combustion,  for  as  soon 
as  it  did  so  it  would  cease  to  be  nitrogen.  That  A  is  A,  is  an 
identical  proposition  only  when  the  attributes  of  A  are 
constant.  Now  the  incapacity  to  support  combustion  is  one 
of  the  attributes  by  the  possession  of  which  nitrogen  is 
nitrogen.  And  to  say  that  nitrogen  may  at  some  future  time 
support  combustion,  is  to  say  that  a  will  cease  to  be  a,  and 
become  something  else. 

Now,  why  are  we  compelled  to  think  thus  ?  Because  we 
are  incapable  of  transcending  our  experience.  Our  experience 
of  nitrogen  is  that  it  will  not  support  combustion,  and  we 
are  incapable  of  imagining  it  to  be  otherwise  in  contradic- 
tion to  our  experience.  Our  conception  of  nitrogen,  formed 
by  experience,  is  that  of  a  substance  which  will  not  support 
combustion,  and  we  cannot  mentally  sever  the   substance 


ch.  in.]  THE  TEST  OF  TRUTH.  61 

from  its  attribute  without  destroying  the  conception  alto- 
gether. So  we  cannot  conceive  that  a  lump  of  iron  will 
float  in  water.  Why  ?  Because  our  conception  of  iron, 
formed  solely  by  experience,  is  that  of  a  substance  which 
sinks  in  water ;  and  to  imagine  it  otherwise  is  to  suppress  the 
conception,  either  of  iron  or  of  water,  and  to  substitute  some 
other  conception  in  its  place.  We  may  try  the  experiment 
for  ourselves.  Try  to  imagine  a  lump  of  iron  floating  in 
water,  and  you  will  find  that  you  cannot  do  it,  without 
mentally  endowing  either  the  iron  or  the  water  with  other 
attributes  than  those  by  virtue  of  which  these  substances  are 
what  they  are,  and  thus  your  attempt  destroys  itself.  Yet  no 
Kantian  would  deny  that  your  conception  of  iron  or  of  water 
is  wholly  formed  by  experience.  Your  conception  is  just  what 
experience  has  made  it,  and  you  cannot  alter  it  without  de- 
stroying it,  simply  because  you  cannot  transcend  experience. 

Here  then  we  come  to  a  conclusion  quite  the  reverse  of 
that  maintained  by  the  Kantians.  "  The  irresistible  tendency 
we  have  to  anticipate  that  the  future  course  of  events  will 
resemble  the  past,  is  simply  that  we  have  experience  only  of 
the  past,  and  as  we  cannot  transcend  our  experience,  we 
cannot  conceive  things  really  existing  otherwise  than  as  we 
have  Kiwwn  them.  The  very  fact  of  our  being  compelled 
to  judge  of  the  unknown  by  the  known — of  our  irresistibly 
anticipating  that  the  future  course  of  events  will  resemble 
the  past — of  our  incapacity  to  believe  that  the  same  effects 
should  not  follow  from  the  same  causes — this  very  fact  is  a 
triumphant  proof  of  our  having  no  ideas  not  acquired  through 
experience.  If  we  had  a  priori  ideas,  these,  as  independent 
of,  and  superior  to,  all  experience,  would  enable  us  to  judge 
the  unknown  according  to  some  other  standard  than  that  of 
the  known.     But  no  other  standard  is  possible  for  us."  * 

The  same  general  considerations  will  apply  to  the  truths  of 
mathematics,  which  some  Kantians  regard  as  the  necessary 

1  Lewes,  History  of  Philosophy,  2nd  edition,  p.  668. 


58  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [vt.  i. 

truths  par  excellence, — habitually  speaking  of  them  as  if  they 
were  in  some  way  truer  than  physical  and  chemical  truths. 
Bearing  in  mind  what  was  said  a  moment  ago,  it  will  be 
sufficient  to  observe  that  in  mathematics  we  utter  propositions 
with  respect  to  certain  particular  relations    alone,  without 
regard  to  other  conditions,  and  hence  there  is  absolutely  no 
room  for  contingency.     Let  me  conclude  this  portion  of  the 
subject  by  a  citation  from  Mr.  Lewes  : — "When  we  say  that 
twice  two  is  four,  or  that  the  internal  angles  of  a  triangle 
are  equal  to  two  right  angles,  we  abstract  the  relations  of 
Number  and  Form  from  all  other  conditions  whatever,  and 
our  propositions  are  true,  whether  the  objects  counted  and 
measured  be  hot  or  cold,  large  or  small,  heavy  or  light,  red 
or  blue.     Inasmuch  as  the  truths  express  the  abstract  rela- 
tions only,  no  change  in  the  other  conditions  can  affect  these 
relations ;  and  truths  must  always  remain  undisturbed  until 
a  change  take  place  in  their  terms.     Alter  the  number  two, 
or  the  figure  triangle,by  an  infinitesimal  degree,  and  the  truth 
is  thereby  altered.     When  we  say  that  bodies  expand  by 
heat,  the  proposition  is  a  concrete  one,  including  the  variable 
conditions ;  but  although  these  variable  conditions  prevent 
our  saying  that  all  bodies  will  under  all  conditions  be  always 
and  for  evermore  expanded  by  heat,  the  case  is  not  really 
distinguished  from  the  former  one,  since  both  the  Contingent 
and  the  Necessary  Truth  can  only  be  altered  by  an  alteration 
in  the  terms.     If  a  body  which  does  not  expand  by  heat 
(there  are  such)  be  brought  forward  as  impugning  the  truth 
of  our  proposition,  we  at  once  recognize  that  this  body  is 
under  different  conditions  from  those  which  our  proposition 
included.     This  is  the  introduction  of  a  new  truth,  not  a 
falsification  of  the  old.     Our  error,  if  we  erred,  was  in  too 
hastily  assuming  that  all  bodies  were  under  the  same  condi- 
tions.    Hence  the  correct  definition  of  a  Contingent  Truth 
is  '  one  which  generalizes  the  conditions ' ;  while  that  of  a 
Necessary  Truth  is  '  one  which  is  an  unconditional  generaii- 


ch.  in.]  THE  TEST  OF  TRUTH.  59 

zation.'  The  first  affirms  that  whatever  is  seen  to  be  true, 
under  present  conditions,  will  be  true  so  long  as  these  con- 
ditions remain  unaltered.  The  second  affirms  that  whatever 
is  true  now,  being  a  truth  irrespective  of  conditions,  cannot 
suffer  any  change  from  interfering  conditions,  and  must 
therefore  be  universally  true."1 

To  this  lucid  exposition  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  add  that 
the  mental  compulsion  under  which  we  accept  mathematical 
truths  is  of  precisely  the  same  character  as  that  under  which 
we  accept  physical  or  chemical  truths.  Our  conception  of 
parallel  lines—  a  conception  which  the  Kantian  admits  to 
have  been  formed  by  experience — is  a  conception  of  lines 
which  do  not  enclose  space.  And  just  as  we  found  that,  in 
order  to  imagine  nitrogen  supporting  combustion,  we  were 
obliged  to  suppress  the  conception  of  nitrogen  altogether  and 
substitute  for  it  some  other  conception,  we  also  find  that, 
in  order  to  imagine  two  parallel  lines  enclosing  a  space,  we 
must  suppress  the  conception  of  parallel  lines  altogether,  and 
substitute  for  it  the  conception  of  bent  or  converging  lines. 
The  two  cases  are  exactly  similar.  In  the  one  case,  as  in 
the  other,  our  conceptions  are  but  the  registry  of  our  ex- 
perience, and  can  therefore  be  altered  only  by  being  tempo- 
rarily annihilated.  Our  minds  being  that  which  intercourse 
with  the  environment — both  their  own  intercourse  and  that 
of  ancestral  minds,  as  will  be  shown  hereafter — has  made 
them,  it  follows  that  our  indestructible  beliefs  must  be  the 
registry  of  that  intercourse,  must  be  necessarily  true,  not 
because  they  are  independent  of  experience,  but  because  they 
are  the  only  complete  unqualified  expression  of  it.  Here 
then,  on  the  ruins  of  the  Kantian  hypothesis,  we  may  erect 
a  canon  of  truth,  as  follows : — 

1  History  of  Philosophi/i  4th  edit.  vol.  i.  p.  cv.  This  view,  which  I 
hold  to  be  the  most  important  contribution  ever  made  to  the  discussion  of 
Necessity  uul  Conringency,  is  sr ill  more  thoroughly  and  forcibly  presented 
by  Mi.  Lew;s  in  ins  new  work,  Problems  of  Life,  and  Mind,  vol.  i.  pp. 
£53-414. 


«0  COSMIC  PniLOSOPHY.  [pt.  1 

A  necessary  truth  is  one  that  is  expressed  in  a  propc  sition 
of  which  the  negation  is  inconceivable,  after  all  disturbing 
conditions  have  been  eliminated. 

A  proposition  of  which  the  negation  is  inconceivable  is 
necessarily  true  in  relation  to  human  intelligence. 

This  test  of  inconceivability  is  the  only  ultimate  test  of 
truth  which  philosophy  can  accept  as  valid. 

Thus  the  uniformity-test  of  Hume  and  the  inconceiv- 
ability-tost of  Kant  are  fused  together  in  a  deeper  synthesis, 
— the  deepest  which  philosophy  can  reach.  As  Mr.  Spencer 
forcibly  states  it :  "  Conceding  the  entire  truth  of  the  position 
that,  during  any  phase  of  human  progress,  the  ability  or 
inability  to  form  a  specific  conception  wholly  depends  on 
the  experieuce  men  have  had;  and  that,  by  a  widening  of 
their  experiences,  they  may  by-and-bye  be  enabled  to  conceive 
things  before  inconceivable  to  them ;  it  may  still  be  argued, 
that  as  at  any  time  the  best  warrant  men  can  have  for  a 
belief  is  the  perfect  agreement  of  all  pre-existing  experience 
in  support  of  it,  it  follows  that,  at  any  time,  the  inconceiv- 
ableness  of  its  negation  is  the  deepest  test  any  belief  admits 
of.  Objective  facts  are  ever  impressing  themselves  upon  us; 
our  experience  is  a  register  of  these  objective  facts;  and  the 
inconceivableness  of  a  thing  implies  that  it  is  wholly  at 
variance  with  the  register.  Even  were  this  all,  it  is  not 
clear  how,  if  every  truth  is  primarily  inductive,  any  better 
test  of  truth  could  exist.  But  it  must  be  remembered,  that 
whilst  many  of  these  facts  impressing  themselves  upon  us 
are  occasional ;  whilst  others  again  are  very  general ;  some 
are  universal,  and  are  unchanging.  These  universal  and 
unchanging  facts  are,  by  the  hypothesis,  certain  to  establish 
beliefs  of  which  the  negations  are  inconceivable ;  whilst  the 
others  are  not  certain  to  do  this ;  and  if  they  do,  subsequent 
facts  will  reverse  their  action." 

As  this  position  has  been  vehemently  attacked  by  Mr. 
Mill,  who  hardly  admits  for  the  test  of  inconceivableness  any 


ch.  in.]  THE  TEST  OF  TRUTH.  61 

validity  whatever,  some  further  explanation  is  desirable.  It 
must  not  be  supposed  that,  in  erecting  such  a  canon  of  truth, 
we  arc  imitating  those  high  a  priori  metaphysicians,  who 
regard  all  their  cherished  traditional  notions  as  infallible  in- 
tuitions, because  of  their  professed  inability  to  disbelieve  them. 
This  is  a  confusion  of  which  Mr.  Mill  has  not  succeeded  in 
keeping  clear,  and  which  has  led  him  unintentionally  to  mis- 
represent the  position  taken  by  Mr.  Spencer  and  Mr.  Lewes. 
The  confusion  arises  from  the  double  sense  of  the  word  belief* 
and  the  accompanying  ambiguous  use  of  the  term  inconceiv- 
able. By  a  singular  freak  of  language  we  use  the  word  belief 
to  designate  both  the  least  persistent  and  the  most  persistent 
coherence  among  our  states  of  consciousness, — to  describe  our' 
state  of  mind  with  reference  both  to  those  propositions  of  the 
truth  of  which  we  are  least  certain,  and  to  those  of  the  truth 
of  which  we  are  most  certain.  We  apply  it  to  states  of  mind 
which  have  nothing  in  common,  except  that  they  cannot  be 
justified  by  a  chain  of  logical  proofs.  For  example,  you  believe, 
perhaps,  that  all  crows  are  black,  but  being  unable  to  furnish 
absolutely  convincing  demonstration  of  the  proposition,  you 
say  that  you  believe  it,  not  that  you  know  it.  You  also 
believe  in  your  own  personal  existence,  of  which,  however, 
you  can  furnish  no  logical  demonstration,  simply  because  it 
is  an  ultimate  fact  in  your  consciousness  which  underlies 
and  precedes  all  demonstration.  So  with  the  axioms  of 
geometry.  If  asked  what  are  our  grounds  for  believing  that 
two  straight  lines  cannot  enclose  a  space,  we  can  only  reply 
that  the  counter-proposition  is  inconceivable;  that  we  cannot 
frame  the  conception  of  two  straight  lines  enclosing  a  space ; 
mat  in  any  attempt  to  do  so,  the  conception  of  straight  lines 
disappears  and  is  replaced  by  the  conception  of  bent  lines. 
We  believe  the  axiom  simply  because  we  must  believe  it. 

4  The  source  of  this  confusion  is  the  failure  to  distinguish  between  the 
kind  uf  belief  which  remains  after  "  the  reduction  of  inferences  to  sensa- 
tions," and  that  which  is  founded  in  a  "reliance  on  unverified  inferences."— 
Be*  Lewis,  Problems  of  Life  and  Mind,  vol.  i.  p.  369. 


62  COSMIC  PIIILOSOrHY.  [pt.  i. 

It  is  o*ily  in  tins  latter  sense  that  the  word  "belief  is  em- 
ployed in  the  canon  of  truth  above  stated,  and  when  Mr. 
Spencer  says  that  a  given  proposition  is  inconceivable,  he 
means  that  it  is  one  of  which  the  subject  and  predicate  can 
by  no  amount  of  effort  be  united  in  consciousness.     Thus 
(to  take  Mr.  Spencer's  illustration),  that  a  cannon-ball  fired 
from  England  will  reach  America  is  a  proposition  which, 
though  utterly  incredible,  is  not  inconceivable, — since  it  is 
quite  possible  to  imagine  the  projectile  power  of  cannons 
increased  four-hundredfold,  or  one-thousandfold,    were  the 
requisite  conditions  at  hand;  but  that  a  certain  triangle  is 
round  is  an  inconceivable  proposition,  for  the  conceptions  of 
roundness  and  triangularity  will  destroy  each  other  sooner 
than  be  united  in  consciousness.     And  manifestly  we  can 
have  no  deeper  warrant  for  the  truth  of  a  proposition  than 
that  the  counter-proposition  is  one  which  the  mind  is  incom- 
petent to  frame.     Such  a  state  of  things  implies  that  the 
entire   intercourse   of  the    mind   with   the  environment   is 
witness  in  favour  of  the  proposition  and  against  its  negation. 
It   is  indeed  a  popular   misconception, — a  misconception 
which  lies  at  the  bottom  of  that  manner  of  philosophizing 
which  is  called  Empiricism, — that  nothing  can  be  known  to  be 
true  which  cannot  be  demonstrated.    To  be  convinced  that  this 
is  a  misconception,  we  need  but  to  recollect  what  a  demonstra- 
tion is.     Every  demonstration  consists,  in  the  first  place,  of  a 
series  of  steps  in  each  of  which  the  group  of  relations  expressed 
in  a  proposition  is  included  in  some  other  and  wider  group  of 
relations, — is  seen  to  be  like  some  other  group  previously 
constituted.     Now  if  this  process  of  inclusion  is  not  to  be 
carried  on  for  ever,  we  must  come  at  last  to  some  widest 
group, — to  some  generalization  which  cannot  be  included  in 
any  wider  generalization,  and  of  which  we  can  only  say  that 
the  truth  which  it  expresses  is  so  completely  abstracted  from 
perturbing  conditions  that  it  can  be  recognized  by  a  simple 
act  of  consciousness  as  self-evident.     If,  for  example,  "we 


:n.  m.]  TEE  TEST  OF  TRUTH.  6.1 

ascribe  the  flow  of  a  river  to  the  same  force  which  causes  the 
fall  of  a  stone,"  and  if,  "  in  further  explanation  of  a  move- 
ment produced  by  gravitation  in  a  direction  almost  horizontal, 
we  cite  the  law  that  fluids  subject  to  mechanical  forces  exert 
reactive  forces  which  are  equal  in  all  directions,"  we  are  going 
through  a  process  of  demonstration, — we  are  including  a 
special  fact  under  a  more  general  fact.  If  now  we  seek  the 
warrant  for  this  more  general  fact,  and  find  it  in  that  most 
general  fact  that  force  persists,  we  are  still  going  through  a 
process  of  demonstration.  But  if  lastly  we  inquire  for  the 
warrant  of  this  most  general  fact,  we  shall  get  no  reply  save 
that  no  alternative  can  be  framed  in  thought.  That  force 
persists  we  are  compelled  to  believe,  since  the  proposition  that 
force  can  arise  out  of  nothing  or  can  lapse  into  nothing  is  a 
verbal  proposition  which  we  can  by  no  amount  of  effort 
translate  into  thought.  Thus  at  the  end  of  every  demonstra- 
tion we  must  reach  an  axiom  for  the  truth  of  which  our 
only  test  is  the  inconceivability  of  its  negation. 

Secondly,  from  a  different  point  of  view,  a  demonstration 
is  a  series  of  propositions,  every  one  of  which  is  necessarily 
involved  in  the  preceding  one.  How  do  we  know  it  to  be 
thus  necessarily  involved  ?  How  do  we  know  that  the  state- 
ment that  action  and  reaction  are  equal  and  opposite  is 
necessarily  involved  in  the  statement  that  force  persists  ? 
Simply  because  we  can  conceive  no  alternative,  since  to  do 
so  would  be  to  perform  the  impossible  task  of  formulating  in 
consciousness  an  equation  between  something  and  nothing. 
Thus  our  only  warrant  for  each  step  of  a  demonstration  is 
the  fact  that  any  alternative  step  is  one  which  the  mind 
cannot  take. 

Such  is  indeed  our  only  warrant  for  that  most  certain  of 
all  facts — the  existence  of  our  own  states  of  consciousness. 
If  you  say  that  you  have  a  sensation  of  redness,  and  I 
require  you  to  prove  the  statement,  you  can  only  reiterate 
that  such  is  the  fact,  the  testimony  of  consciousness  as  to  the 


64  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [*r,  j, 

existence  of  its  own  states  being  final,  and  admitting  of  no 
appeal.  You  cannot  conceive  it  to  l>e  otherwise.  During 
the  presence  of  the  sensation  of  redness  it  is  impossible  for 
any  opposite  state  of  consciousness,  such  as  the  sensation  of 
blueness,  to  emerge.  With  regard  to  the  cause  of  the  sensa- 
tion, the  case  is  wholly  different.  The  sensation  of  redness 
may  be  due  to  the  presence  of  an  external  object  from  which 
emitted  red  rays  impinge  upon  the  retina ;  or  it  may  be  due 
to  the  presence  of  certain  foreign  substances  in  your  blood 
which  excite  in  the  optic  nerve  such  a  rate  of  undulation  as 
to  produce  the  consciousness  of  red  colour.  All  this  is  matter 
of  inference,  and  must  be  verified  by  the  repeated  application 
of  the  test  of  truth.  But  for  the  ultimate  dictum — that  the 
given  state  of  consciousness  exists — you  have  the  direct 
warrant  of  consciousness  itself. 

In  the  light  of  this  explanation,  does  not  our  canon  of 
inconceivability  seem  almost  a  truism,  and  does  it  not  seem 
a  singular  ignoratio  elenchi  when  Mr.  Mill  urges  against  us 
that  the  ancients  could  not  conceive  the  existence  of  the 
antipodes,  which  nevertheless  exist  ?  It  is  quite  true  that  the 
ancients  could  not  believe  that  men  could  stand  on  the  other 
side  of  the  earth  without  falling  off ;  and  this  was  because 
they  falsified  one  of  the  conditions  of  the  complex  case. 
They  imagined  gravity  continually  acting  downwards,  not 
knowing  that  downwards  means  toward  the  centre  of  the 
earth.  What  they  could  not  conceive  was  that  an  unsupported 
body  will  not  fall ;  and  this  is  still  strictly  inconceivable, 
since  to  assert  that  an  unsupported  body  will  not  fall  is  to 
assert  that  a  given  amount  of  gravitative  force,  when  not 
counteracted  by  an  equivalent  opposing  force,  will  not  mani- 
fest itself  in  motion, — a  verbal  assertion  which  can  by  no 
effort  be  construed  into  thought. 

A  similar  reply  awaits  Mr.  Mill's  argument  from  the  old 
belief  in  the  destructibility  of  matter.  It  is  now  incon- 
ceivable that  a  particle  of  matter  should  either  come  rato 


en.  iti.]  THE  TEST  OF  TRUTH.  65 

existence  or  lapse  into  non-existence.  But  before  the  use  of 
the  balance  in  chemistry  had  shown  experimentally  that 
nothing  ever  disappears,  hypotheses  were  freely  propounded 
in  which  the  indestructibility  of  matter  was  entirely  ignored ; 
and,  accordingly,  Mr.  Mill  appears  to  believe  that  in  former 
times  the  annihilation  of  matter  was  thinkable.  In  reply  it 
is  enough  to  observe  that,  so  long  as  human  intelligence  has 
been  human  intelligence,  it  can  never  have  been  possible  to 
frame  in  thought  an  equation  between  something  and  nothing: 
yet  this  is  the  impossibility  which  must  be  surmounted  before 
the  annihilation  or  the  creation  of  a  particle  of  matter  can 
become  representable  in  consciousness.  The  truth  is  that 
whoever,  before  the  discoveries  of  chemistry,  maintained 
that  matter  is  destructible,  defended  a  verbal  proposition, 
which  answered  to  no  framed  or  frameable  conception.  Of  a 
piece  with  this  is  the  fact  that  in  all  ages  men  have  tortured, 
slain,  calumniated,  or  otherwise  persecuted  each  other  in  their 
zeal  to  get  sundry  propositions  established,  the  subject  and 
predicate  of  which  could  never  be  united  in  thought.  It  is 
not  so  very  long  since  Michael  Servetus  was  burned  at  the 
stake  for  a  heresy  partly  based  upon  doubts  as  to  the  possible 
equality  or  identity  of  three  and  one ;  yet  not  even  Mr.  Mill 
would  maintain  that  it  has  ever  been  possible  for  human 
intelligence  to  join  together  the  members  of  the  quantitative 
theorem  implied  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity.  It  appears, 
therefore,  that  men  may  believe,  or  at  least  maintain,  what 
they  can  in  nowise  conceive.  As  Mr.  Spencer  well  says, 
"  Eefrain  from  rendering  your  terms  into  ideas,  and  you  may 
reach  any  conclusion  whatever.  That  the  whole  is  equal  to 
its  part  is  a  proposition  that  may  be  quite  comfortably 
entertained  so  long  as  neither  wholes  nor  parts  are  imagined." 
This  is  one  of  the  ways  in  which  so  many  absurd  theories 
obtain  currency,  and  having  once  become  current  are  so 
difficult  to  banish  from  circulation.  The  philologist  A.  W. 
Schlegel  once  suggested  that  the  terminations  of  words  may 
vol.  I.  F 


66  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  L 

have  grown  out  from  the  roots,  just  as  branches  of  trees 
grow  from  axillary  buds.  Inductive  philology  has  proved 
this  notion  to  be  false,  and  has  shown  that  in  all  cases  a 
termination  is  the  abraded  relic  of  an  originally  distinct 
qualifying  word,  which  by  constant  use  and  through  rapid 
pronunciation,  during  primitive  ages  when  words  were  ad- 
dressed only  to  the  ear,  has  become  inseparably  agglutinated 
to  the  qualified  word  or  root.  This  discovery,  which  has  long 
been  completely  verified,  of  course  supersedes  and  renders 
antiquated  the  hypothesis  of  Schlegel.  But  the  point  which 
here  concerns  us  is  that  no  such  elaborate  induction  was 
needed  to  show  that  the  notion  of  a  budding  termination  is 
in  itself  absurd.  All  that  was  needed  to  reveal  its  absurdity 
was  to  stop  and  translate  the  words  used  into  ideas.  To  say 
that  a  termination  buds  out  from  a  root,  is  to  combine  words 
which  severally  possess  a  meaning  into  a  phrase  which  has 
no  meaning.  We  can  severally  form  concepts  of  a  word- 
termination,  of  a  word-root,  and  of  the  process  of  budding; 
but  the  three  concepts  are  wholly  disparate  and  refuse  to  unite 
into  a  thinkable  proposition.  The  hypothesis  had  no  othei 
foundation  than  the  vague  associations  with  the  processes 
of  vegetal  life  which  cluster  about  such  a  word  as  "  root " ; 
and  the  fact  that  a  scholar  like  Schlegel  could  seriously  found 
a  theory  of  language  upon  such  a  mere  chaos  of  half-shaped 
conceptions  shows  us  how  easy  it  is  for  highly-educated  men 
to  think  in  a  very  slovenly  manner.  But  it  likewise  con- 
clusively shows  us  that  the  assent  of  philosophers  in  past 
ages,  or  of  uneducated  people  in  our  own  age,  to  sundry 
unthinkable  propositions,  is  not  to  be  cited  as  evidence  that 
there  are  minds  which  can  think  what  is  unthinkable.  The 
building  up  of  enormous  theories  out  of  purely  verbal 
propositions,  which  do  not  correspond  to  any  thinkable  con- 
catenation of  conceptions,  has  always  been  the  besetting 
sin  of  human  philosophizing.  It  has  been  known,  since  the 
Middle   Ag^s,   by   the    apparently   incongruous    epithet  of 


CH.  in.]  THE  TEST  OF  TRUTH.  C7 

Realism,  because  at  that  time  it  was  most  conspicuously 
illustrated  in  the  famous  theory  that  wherever  there  is  a 
general  term  there  must  be  a  real  objective  thing  correspond- 
ing to  it, — a  general  Horse,  for  example,  in  addition  to  all 
individual  horses.  This  single  phase  of  the  mental  habit  in 
question  might  be  cited  as  an  all-sufficient  answer  to  Mr. 
Mill's  objection.  Mr.  Mill  would  be  the  last  to  admit  that 
the  realists  were  able  to  conceive  of  Horse  except  as  some 
particular  horse;  yet  they  stoutly  maintained  that  they  could 
and  did  frame  such  a  conception.  The  Platonic  theory  of 
Ideas  was  based  upon  this  realistic  tendency  to  lend  an 
objective  value  to  the  mere  verbal  signs  of  subjective  con- 
ceptions, which  was  dominant  in  the  philosophy  of  the  Greeks 
and  of  the  scholastics,  and  which,  in  modern  times,  is  well 
exemplified  in  the  philosophy  of  Hegel. 

"We  thus  see  that  men  may  believe — or  believe  that  they 
believe — propositions  which  they  cannot,  in  the  strict  sense 
of  the  word,  conceive.  Until  men  have  become  quite  freed 
from  the  inveterate  habit  of  using  words  without  stopping  to 
render  them  into  ideas,  they  may  doubtless  go  on  asserting 
propositions  which  conflict  with  experience ;  but  it  is  none 
the  less  true  that  valid  conceptions  wholly  at  variance  with 
the  subjective  register  of  experience  can  at  no  time  be  framed. 
And  it  is  for  this  reason  that  we  cannot  frame  a  conception  of 
nitrogen  which  will  support  combustion,  or  of  a  solid  lump  of 
iron  which  will  float  in  water,  or  of  a  triangle  which  is  round, 
or  of  a  space  enclosed  by  two  straight  lines.  So  that  when 
Mr.  Mill  hints  that  it  was  once  possible  for  men  to  frame 
conceptions  which  cannot  now  be  framed,  he  tacitly  assumes 
that  conceptions  may  have  been  framed  of  which  the  elements 
have  never  been  joined  together  in  experience.  Yet  of  all 
possible  psychological  theorems  there  is  none,  I  suppose, 
which,  when  overtly  stated,  Mr.  Mill  would  more  emphatically 
deny  than  this.  To  see  Mr.  Mill  unwittingly  arrayed  in  the 
lists  against  the  experience-theory  is  indeed  a  singular  spec- 

F  2 


68  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  l 

tacle ;  but  it  is  only  one  instance,  out  of  many,  of  the  way 
in  which  that  theory  has  suffered  from  its  association  with 
empiricism.  When  in  a  future  chapter  we  come  to  treat  of 
the  evolution  of  intelligence,  we  shall  see  that  Mr.  Spencer 
was  the  first  to  penetrate  to  the  very  core  of  the  experience- 
philosophy  when  he  perceived  that  the  deepest  warrant  for 
the  perfect  conformity  of  a  given  proposition  with  experience 
is  the  unthinkableness  of  the  counter-proposition.1 

But  now,  what  do  we  mean  when  we  say  that,  after 
eliminating  all  perturbing  conditions,  a  proposition  of  which 
the  negation  is  unthinkable  must  be  necessarily  true  ?  By  a 
confusion  of  ideas  very  unusual  with  him,  Mr.  Mill  seems  to 
think  that  we  mean  to  accredit  such  propositions  with  express- 
in  some  necessary  relation  among  objective  realities  perse, 
apart  from  their  relation  to  our  intelligence  ;  for  he  somewhere 
charges  Mr.  Spencer  with  "erecting  the  incurable  limitations 
of  the  human  conceptive  faculty  into  laws  of  the  outward 
universe."  When  correctly  interpreted,  however,  Mr.  Spencer 
will  be  found  to  have  done  no  such  thing.  He  simply  erects 
them,  as  Mr.  Lewes  expresses  it,  into  "  laws  of  the  concep- 
tions we  form  of  the  universe."  Holding  as  we  do,  that  all 
our  knowledge  is  derived  from  experience,  that  we  have  no 
experience  of  the  objective  order  of  the  relations  among  things, 
and  hence  can  never  know  whether  it  agrees  or  disagrees  with 

i  Since  my  final  revision  of  this  chapter,  I  find  the  case  thus  admirably  put 
into  a  nut-sh^ll  by  Mr.  Lewes,  in  his  now  forthcoming  work,  Problems  of 
Life  and  Mind,  vol.  i.  p.  396  : — "The  arguments  which  support  the  a  priori 
view  have  been  ingeniously  thrown  into  this  syllogism  by  Mr.  Killick  :  The 
necessary  truth  of  a  proposition  is  a  mark  of  its  not  being  derived  from  Ex- 
perience. (Experience  cannot  inform  us  of  what  must  be  :)  The  inconceiv- 
ability of  the  contradictory  is  the  mark  of  the  necessary  truth  of  a  proposi- 
tion :  Therefore  the  inconceivability  of  its  contradictory  is  a  mark  of  a  propo- 
sition not  being  derived  from  Experience. — This  syllogism  is  perfect  in  form, 
but  has  a  radical  defect  in  its  terms.  The  inconceivability  of  a  contradictory 
results  from  the  entire  absence  of  experiences  on  which  a  contradiction  could 
be  grounded.  If  there  were  any  truths  independent  of  Experience,  contra- 
dictions to  them  would  be  conceivable, .  since  there  would  be  no  positive 
obstacle  to  the  conception  ;  but  a  contradiction  is  inconceivable  only  when 
all  Experience  opposes  itself  to  the  formation  of  the  contradictory  con- 
ception. " 


ch.  in.]  THE  TEST  OF  TRUTH.  69 

the  subjective  order  of  our  conceptions, — it  is  passing  strange 
that  we  should  ever  have  been  called  upon  to  correct  such 
a  misinterpretation.  All  that  Mr.  Spencer  or  his  followers 
have  ever  maintained  is  this:  that  although  we  have  no 
experience  of  the  objective  order  in  itself,  we  have 
experience  of  the  manner  in  which  the  objective  order 
affects  us.  Though  we  have  no  experience  of  noumena, 
we  have  experience  of  phenomena.  And  when  experience 
generates  in  us  a  subjective  order  of  conceptions  that  cannot 
be  altered,  we  have  the  strongest  possible  warrant  that  the 
order  of  our  conceptions  corresponds  to  the  order  of 
phenomena.  Expressed  in  this  abstract  terminology,  the 
precise  shade  of  my  meaning  may  be  difficult  to  catch  and 
fix ;  but  a  concrete  illustration  will,  I  trust,  do  away  with 
the  difficulty.  If  the  subjective  order  of  my  conceptions  is 
such  that  the  concept  of  a  solid  lump  of  iron  and  the  concept 
of  a  body  floating  in  water  will  destroy  each  other  rather 
than  be  joined  together,  and  I  therefore  say  that  a  solid  lump 
of  iron  will  not  float  in  water,  what  do  I  mean  by  it  ?  Do  I 
intend  any  statement  concerning  the  unknown  external  thing, 
or  tilings,  which  when  acting  upon  my  consciousness  causes 
in  me  the  perceptions  of  iron,  and  water,  and  floating  or 
sinking  ?  By  no  means.  I  do  not  even  imply  that  such 
modes  of  existence  as  iron  or  water,  or  such  modes  of  activity 
as  floating  or  sinking,  pertain  to  the  unknown  external  reality 
at  all.  It  is  impossible  for  us  to  realize,  but  it  is  nevertheless 
imaginable,  that  to  some  form  of  impressibility  quite  different 
from  what  we  know  as  conscious  intelligence,  the  same  un- 
known reality  might  be  manifested  as  something  quite 
different  from  iron  or  water,  sinking  or  floating.  By  my 
statement  I  only  imply  that  whenever  that  same  unknown 
thing,  or  things,  acts  upon  my  consciousness,  or  upon  the 
consciousness  of  any  being  of  whom  intelligence  can  be 
properly  predicated,  there  will  always  ensue  the  perception  of 
iron  sinking  in  water,  and   never  the   perception    of    iron 


70  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [i>t.  I. 

floating  in  water.  And  in  stating  this,  I  only  reveal  my  in- 
capacity for  conceiving  that,  under  identical  conditions,  the 
Unknowable  can  ever  act  upon  human  intelligence  other- 
wise than  it  has  always  acted  upon  it.  In  other  words,  I 
am  showing  that  I  cannot  transcend  the  limits  of  ex- 
perience ;  and  I  am  reaffirming,  in  the  most  emphatic  manner, 
the  relativity  of  all  knowledge. 

We  are  now  in  a  position  to  answer  the  queries  which 
were  propounded  at  the  beginning  of  this  chapter.  At  the 
outset  of  our  inquiry,  Truth  was  provisionally  defined  as 
the  correspondence  between  the  subjective  order  of  our  con- 
ceptions and  the  objective  order  of  the  relations  among 
things.  But  this  is  the  definition  of  that  Absolute  Truth, 
which  implies  an  experience  of  the  objective  order  in  itself, 
and  of  such  truth  we  can  have  no  criterion.  It  was  this 
which  Mr.  Mill  must  have  had  in  mind,  when  he  let  fall  the 
much  criticized  suggestion  that  in  some  distant  planet  the 
sum  of  twro  and  two  might  be  five.  But  such  a  statement  is 
inadequate ;  for  when  we  speak  of  planets  and  numbers,  we 
are  tarrying  within  the  region  of  things  accessible  to  in- 
telligence, and  within  this  region  we  cannot  admit  the 
possibility  of  two  and  two  making  five.  It  is  nevertheless 
imaginable  that  somewhere  there  may  be  a  mode  of  existence, 
different  from  intelligence,  and  inconceivable  by  us  because 
wholly  alien  from  our  experience,  upon  which  numerical 
limitations  like  ours  would  not  be  binding.  The  utter 
blankness  of  uncertainty  in  which  such  a  suggestion  leaves 
us  may  serve  as  an  illustration  of  the  theorem  that  we  can 
have  no  criterion  of  Absolute  Truth,  or  of  truth  that  is  not 
correlated  with  the  conditions  of  our  intelligence. 

But  the  lack  of  any  such  criterion  in  no  way  concerns  us 
as  intelligent  beings.  The  only  truth  with  which  we  have 
any  concern  is  Relative  Truth, — the  truth  that  is  implicated 
With  whatever  can  in  any  way  come  within  our  cognizance. 
For  relative  truth  our  inquiry  has  established  this  criterion 


ch.  in.]  THE  TEST  OF  TRUTH.  71 

— When   any    given   order   among   our   conceptions   is  so 
coherent  that  it  cannot  be  sundered  except  by  the  temporary 
annihilation  of    some  one  of   its  terms,   there  must  be  a 
corresponding  order  among  phenomena.     And  this,  as  we 
have  seen,  is  because  the  order  of  our  conceptions  is  the 
expression  of  our  experience  of  the  order  of  phenomena.     I 
will  only  add  that  what  we  mean  by  reality  is  "  inexpugnable 
persistence  in  consciousness  " ;  so  that  when  the  unknown 
objective  order  of  things  produces  in  us  a  subjective  order 
of   conceptions  which  persists  in  spite  of    every  effort  to 
change  it,  the  subjective  order  is  in  every  respect  as  real  to 
us  as  the  objective  order  would  be  if  we  could  know  it.  And 
this  is  all  the  assurance  we  need,  as  a  warrant  for  science, 
and  as  a  safeguard  against  scepticism.     In  the  next  chapter 
I  shall  endeavour  to  show  that  we  are  no  whit  the  worse  ofi 
for  not  being  able  to  transcend  the  conditions  within  which 
alone  knowledge  is   possible.     Since  "  experience "    means 
merely  the  consciousness  of  the  manner  in  which  the  Un- 
knowable affects  us,  it  follows  that  our  very  incapability  of 
transcending  experience  is    the   surest  guaranty  we  could 
desire  of   the  validity  of   the  fundamental  conceptions   by 
which  our  dailj  life  is  guided,  and  upon  which  our  philosophy 
must  be  built. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

PHENOMENON  AND  NOUMENON. 

Summing  up  the  results  of  the  foregoing  dismission,  we  have 
seen  that  neither  the  test  of  truth  proposed  by  Hume,  nor 
that  proposed  by  Kant,  can  be  regarded  as  valid,  considered 
by  itself ;  but  that,  when  fused  together  in  the  crucible  of 
modern  psychologic  analysis,  the  two  can  be  regarded  as 
making  up  a  criterion  of  truth  adequate  to  all  the  needs  of 
intelligent  beings.     It  has  been  proved  that,  since  the  series 
of  our  conceptions  is  but  the  register  of  our   experience, 
perfect  congruity  of  experience  must  generate  in  us  beliefs 
of  which  the  component  conceptions  can  by  no  mental  effort 
be  torn  apart.     Whence  it  follows  that,  if  relative  truth  be 
defined  as  the  correspondence  between  the  order  of  our  con- 
ceptions and  the  order  of  phenomena,  we  have  this  for  our 
test  of  truth  : — When  any  given  order  among  our  conceptions 
is   so  coherent  that  it  cannot  be  sundered  except  by  the 
temporary  annihilation  of  some  one  of  its  terms,  there  must 
be  a  corresponding  order  among  phenomena.   And  this  state- 
ment, while  it  expresses  the  fundamental  theorem  of  what  is 
known  as  the  experience-philosophy,  recognizes  also  a  germ 
of  truth  in  the  Kantian  doctrine  of  necessity.     When,  in  a 
future  chapter,  the  exposition  of  the  Doctrine  of  Evolution 
shall  have  advanced  so  far  that  we  may  profitably  considei 


ch.  iv.]     PHENOMENON  AND  NOUMENON.  73 

the  nature  of  the  process  by  which  intelligence  has  arisen, 
we  shall  be  enabled  to  carry  much  farther  the  reconciliation, 
here  dimly  foreshadowed,  between  the  great  opposing  theories 
of  the  experieutialists  and  the  intuitionalists.  However 
difficult  it  may  be  to  realize  that  this  apparently  intermin- 
able controversy  is  at  length  to  be  decided  and  passed  over 
as  antiquated,  like  the  yet  longer  dispute  between  Nominal- 
ism and  Realism,  it  will  nevertheless  be  shown  that  this  is 
the  case.  It  will  be  shown  that  the  Doctrine  of  Evolution 
affords  the  means  of  reconciling  the  psychology  of  Locke 
and  Hume  with  the  psychology  of  Leibnitz  and  Kant,  not 
by  any  half-way  measures  of  compromise,  but  by  fusing  the 
two  together  in  a  synthesis  deeper  and  more  comprehensive 
than  either  of  them  singly  has  succeeded  in  making. 

At  present,  however,  merely  hinting  at  these  conclusions 
which  are  by  and  by  to  follow,  we  must  address  ourselves 
to  a  yet  more  arduous  task  of  reconciliation, — the  task  of 
reconciling  our  ineradicable  belief  in  the  existence  of  some- 
thing  external   to  ourselves  with   the   scientific  reasoning 
which  shows  that  we  cannot  directly  know  anything  save 
modifications  of  ourselves.     We  have  to  examine  the  theory 
concerning  objective  reality  which,  along  with  more  or  less 
important  qualifications,  is  held  in  common  by  Idealism,  by 
Scepticism,  and  by  Positivism,  as  represented  respectively 
by  Berkeley,  Hume,  and  Mill.     And  by  characterizing,  with 
the  aid  of  the  principles  now  at  our  command,  the  funda- 
mental error  of  that  theory,  we  shall  be  enabled  properly  to 
define  the  very  different  position  held  by  Mr.  Spencer  and 
adopted  in  the  present  work. 

Our  argument  must  concern  itself  chiefly  with  Berkeley, 
since  the  conclusion  reached  in  dealing  with  his  doctrine 
will  apply  directly  to  the  doctrine  of  Hume,  and  will  point 
the  way  to  the  criticism  needful  to  be  made  upon  the  doc- 
trine of  Mr.  Mill.  Indeed,  as  Mr.  Mill  has  well  remarked, 
there  is  a  sense  in  which  all  modern  philosophy  may  be  said 


74  COSMIO  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

to  date  from  Berkeley.  To  say  nothing  of  his  discovery  of 
the  true  theory  of  vision,  the  first  truth  ever  discovered  in 
psychology  which  stands  upon  the  same  footing  as  the 
demonstrated  truths  of  physical  science;  to  say  nothing  of 
the  magnificent  arguments  by  which  he  brought  to  a  close 
the  seven  hundred  years'  war  between  the  Realists  and 
the  Nominalists;  his  doctrine  of  Idealism,  the  psychologic 
basis  of  which  has  never  been  shaken,  forms  the  pivot  upon 
which  all  subsequent  metaphysical  speculation  has  turned. 
It  is  the  first  point  which  inevitably  presents  itself  for  dis- 
cussion in  any  system  of  philosophy  which,  after  settling 
upon  its  criterion  of  truth,  attempts  with  the  aid  thereof  to 
found  a  valid  explanation  of  the  relations  of  man  with  the 
Cosmos  of  which  he  is  a  part.  Nay  more,  it  is,  as  Berkeley 
himself  held,  narrowly  implicated  with  our  theories  of 
religion,  though  not  in  the  way  which  Berkeley  supposed, 
but  in  a  way  which  he  did  not  foresee,  and  could  not  have 
been  expected  to  foresee. 

In  characterizing  the  Idealism  of  Berkeley  as  contrary  to 
our  ineradicable  belief  in  the  existence  of  something  inde- 
pendent of  ourselves,  it  is  well  to  note  at  the  outset  that 
the  point  of  antagonism  is  not  what — with  extreme,  though 
perhaps  excusable  carelessness — it  was  assumed  to  be  by 
Reid.  The  objective  reality  which  Berkeley  denied  was  not 
what  is  known  as  the  external  world  of  phenomena.  What 
Berkeley  really  denied  was  the  Absolute  Existence  of  which 
phenomena  are  the  manifestations.1  He  denied  the  Nou- 
menon.  "  It  is  a  mere  abstraction,  he  says.  If  it  is  unknown, 
unknowable,  it  is  a  figment,  and  I  will  have  none  of  it ;  for 
it  is  a  figment  worse  than  useless  ;  it  is  pernicious,  as  the 

1  Or,  to  speak  more  accurately,  what  Berkeley  really  denied  was  the  scho- 
lastic theory  of  occult  substrata  underlying  each  group  of  phenomena.  In 
this  denial  we  maintain  that  he  was  right ;  but  his  denial  was  made  in  such 
wise  as  to  ignore  the  fact  of  an  Absolute  Existence  of  which  phenomena  are 
the  manifestations,  and  herein,  as  we  maintain,  was  his  fundamental  error.— 
an  error  which  has  been  adopted  by  Positivism,  and  which  vitiates  that 
system  of  philosophy  from  beginning  to  end. 


ch.  iv.]  PHENOMENON  AND  NOUMENON.  75 

basis  of  all  atheism.  If  by  matter  you  understand  that 
which  is  seen,  felt,  tasted,  and  touched,  then  I  say  matter 
exists :  I  am  as  firm  a  believer  in  its  existence  as  anyone 
can  be,  and  herein  I  agree  with  the  vulgar.  If,  on  the  con- 
trary, you  understand  by  matter  that  occult  substratum 
which  is  not  seen,  not  felt,  not  tasted,  not  touched — that  of 
which  the  senses  do  not,  cannot  inform  you — then  I  say  I 
believe  not  in  the  existence  of  matter,  and  herein  I  differ 
from  the  philosophers,  and  agree  with  the  vulgar."  *  The 
"grin,"  therefore,  with  which  "coxcombs"  sought  to  "van- 
quish Berkeley,"  revealed  only  their  incapacity  to  understand 
him.  Nevertheless  the  antagonism  between  Idealism  and 
common  sense  remains,  though  its  position  is  shifted  ;  as 
appears  from  the  expressions  of  a  very  able  idealist,  the 
late  Prof.  Terrier,  when  he  says  that  Berkeley  sided  with 
those  "  who  recognize  no  distinction  between  the  reality  and 
the  appearance  of  objects,  and  repudiating  the  baseless  hypo- 
thesis of  a  world  existing  unknown  and  unperceived,  he  reso- 
lutely maintained  that  what  are  called  the  sensible  shows  of 
things  are  in  truth  the  very  things  themselves."2  In  this 
mode  of  statement  the  antagonism  between  Idealism  and 
common  sense  is  forcibly  brought  out,  though  the  intention 
of  the  writer  was  rather  to  insist  upon  their  harmony.  For 
as  the  "very  things  themselves  "  which  are  known  and  per- 
ceived were  held  by  Berkeley,  and  are  still  held  by  psycho- 
logists generally,  to  consist  in  modifications  of  our  con- 
sciousness, it  follows  that,  according  to  Berkeley,  the  only 
real  existence  is  mind  with  its  conscious  modifications. 
What  common  sense  affirms  is  the  existence  of  something 
independent  of  our  consciousness :  but  this  is  just  what 
Berkeley  denied. 

Suppose  now  we  grant,  for  the  sake  of  the  argument,  that 
the  only  real  existence  is  mind  with  its  conscious  modifica- 

1  Lewes,  History  of  Philosophy,  3rd  edit.  vol.  ii.  p.  284. 
*  Ferrier,  Philosophical  Remains,  vol.  ii.  p.  297. 


76  COSMIC  PEILOSOJ'IIY.  [pt.  i. 

tions.  The  question  at  once  arises,  what  is  the  cause  of 
these  mollifications?  Since,  consciousness  is  continually 
changing  its  states,  and  indeed  exists  only  by  virtue  of  a 
ceaseless  change  of  states,  what  is  it  that  determines  the 
sequence  of  states  ?  If,  after  the  congeries  of  states  of 
consciousness  composing  the  knowledge  that  I  am  putting 
out  my  hand  in  the  dark,  there  supervenes  the  state  of  con- 
sciousness known  as  the  feeling  of  resistance,  what  is  it  that 
determines  the  sequence  ?  According  to  Berkeley,  it  is  the 
will  of  God.  God  has  predetermined  for  us  the  sequence 
of  states  of  consciousness,  having  so  arranged  things  that 
whenever  we  ideally  thrust  an  ideal  head  against  an  ideal 
chimney-piece,  the  states  of  consciousness  known  as  the 
perception  of  resistance  and  the  sensation  of  headache,  com- 
plicated with  divers  unpleasant  emotional  states,  will  neces- 
sarily ensue.  Now  for  two  reasons  this  is  an  explanation 
which  science  cannot  recognize.  In  the  first  place,  it  is 
either  a  ret  tatement,  in  other  words,  of  the  very  fact  which 
is  to  be  explained,  or  else  it  substitutes  a  cumbrous  explana- 
tion, involving  a  complex  group  of  postulates,  for  the  simple 
ordinary  explanation  which  involves  but  a  single  postulate. 
In  the  second  place,  it  is  a  hypothesis  which  can  be  neither 
proved  nor  disproved ;  and,  as  we  shall  hereafter  see,  all  such 
hypotheses  must  be  regarded  as  illegitimate.  But,  unless 
we  admit  the  existence  of  an  external  reality,  is  there  any 
alternative  hypothesis  ?  Must  we  not  accept  Berkeley's 
explanation,  in  default  of  any  other  ? 

There  is  one  alternative  hypothesis,  and  only  one.  As 
Berkeley  drew  his  idealism  from  Locke,  so  when  Kant 
demonstrated  that  we  cannot  know  the  objective  reality, 
Fichte  drew  the  inference  that  the  objective  reality  does 
not  exist.  Fichte,  like  Berkeley,  held  that  the  only  real 
faxistence  is  mind  with  its  sequent  conscious  states.  But 
Fichte  differed  from  Berkeley  in  his  explanation  of  the 
sequence  of  our  states  of  consciousness.     Fichte  held  that 


en.  iv.]  PHENOMENON  AND  NOUMENON.  77 

this  sequence  is  determined  by  itself — that  it  depends  upon 
the  internal  constitution  of  the  mind.  Or,  in  other  words, 
he  maintained  that  the  subject  creates  the  object.  From 
this  doctrine  have  lineally  descended  all  the  vagaries  of 
modern  German  idealism — vagaries  of  method  as  well  as 
vagaries  of  doctrine,  as  anyone  may  see  who,  af,er  some 
familiarity  with  scientific  methods,  looks  over  the  so-called 
"  Nature-philosophy  "  of  Schelling  and  Oken.  Its  extreme 
corollaries  have  been  stated  by  Hegel,  who,  if  I  do  not 
misinterpret  him,  regards  the  universe  as  nothing  but  the 
self-determined  sequence  of  states  of  consciousness  of  an 
Absolute  Intelligence,  of  which  our  individual  intelligences 
are  partial  manifestations.  Manifestly  we  have  here  arrived 
at  logical  suicide.  We  begin,  with  Kant,  by  saying  that  we 
have  no  knowledge  of  the  objective  order  of  things  ;  we  con- 
tinue, with  Fichto,  by  saying  that  there  is  no  objective  order, 
save  that  which  tlie  mind  creates  for  itself;  and  we  end,  with 
Hegel,  by  identifying  the  objective  order  with  the  subjective, 
and  maintaining  that  whatever  is  true  of  the  latter  is  true 
also  of  the  former.  In  saying  this,  we  virtually  maintain 
that  the  possibilities  of  thought  are  not  only  coextensive  but 
identical  with  the  possibilities  of  things  ;  and  thus  destroy 
the  doctrine  of  relativity  with  which  we  started.  The  post- 
Kantian  idealism  may  therefore  be  described  as  a  linear 
series  of  corollaries,  the  last  of  which  destroys  the  axiom 
upon  which  the  first  of  the  series  rests. 

A  similar  suicide  must  be  the  fate  of  any  doctrine  of 
idealism.  We  often  hear  it  said  that  Berkeley's  clear 
scientific  reasoning  has  never  been,  and  can  never  be,  re- 
futed. This  is  to  a  certain  extent  true.  What  never  has 
been,  and  never  can  be,  refuted,  is  the  clear  scientific 
reasoning  by  which  Berkeley  proves  that  we  cannot  know 
the  objective  reality.  What  can  be,  and  has  already  been, 
refuted,  is  the  unphilosophic  inference  that  there  is  no 
objective  reality.     Eeid,  with  his  so  called  "  Common-Sense 


?»  cosmic  rniLosopji  r.  [pt.  - 

Philosophy,"  failed  because  lie  attacked  the  scientific  doc- 
trine instead  of  the  unphilosophic  inference.  Out  of  sheer 
fright  at  what  he  considered  the  conspicuous  absurdity  of 
Berkeley's  position,  Reid  maintained  that  we  do  know 
objects  per  sc ;  that  in  every  act  of  perception  the  objec- 
tive reality  is  immediately  given  in  consciousness.  Reid 
laid  great  stress  upon  Locke's  distinction,  useful  in  some 
respects,  between  the  primary  and  secondary  qualities  of 
matter,  and  held  that  we  know  the  first  in  themselves, 
although  we  know  the  second  only  in  their  effects  upon 
our  consciousness.  Thus,  while  admitting  that  redness  is 
only  the  name  of  a  state  of  consciousness  produced  in  us 
by  an  unknown  external  agent,  Eeid  insisted  that,  on  the 
other  hand,  in  our  consciousness  of  weight  or  resistance 
we  know  the  external  agent  itself,  and  not  merely  a  state 
of  consciousness.  Plausible  as  this  opinion  appeared,  not 
only  to  the  superficial  Reid,  but  to  that  much  abler  though 
rather  fragmentary  thinker,  Sir  William  Hamilton,1  it  is 
nevertheless  irreconcilable  with  some  very  obvious  psycho- 
logical facts.  To  cite  one  or  two  examples  from  Mr. 
Spencer's  "  Principles  of  Psychology  "  :  "  The  same  weight 
produces  one  kind  of  feeling  when  it  rests  on  a  passive 
portion  of  the  body,  and  another  kind  of  feeling  when  sup- 
ported at  the  end  of  the  outstretched  arm."  In  which  of 
these  cases,  then,  do  we  know  the  real  objective  weight? 
We  cannot  know  it  in  both,  since  in  that  case  the  sub- 
stance of  the  two  cognitions  would  be  the  same.  Again, 
if  one  hand  is  laid  palm  downwards  upon  the  table,  and 
"  a  knuckle  of  the  other  hand  is  thrust  down  with  some  force 
on  the  back  of  it,  there  results  a  sensation  of  pain  in  the 
back  of  the  hand,  a  sensation  of  pressure  in  the  knuckle, 
and  a  sensation  of  muscular  tension  in  the  active  arm. 
Which   of  these   sensations  does  the  mechanical  force  in 

i  Even  the  great  Locke  had  not  freed  himself  from  this  error.     See  the 
Essay  on  Human  Understanding,  book  ii.  chap.  viii. 


en.  iv.]     PHENOMENON  AND  NOUMENON.  79 

action  resemble,  qualitatively  or  quantitatively?  Clearly, 
it  cannot  be  assimilated  to  one  more  than  another  of  them  ; 
und  hence  must  in  itself  be  something  alien  from,  or  unrepre  - 
sentable  by,  any  feeling." * 

This  disposes  of  Eeid,  who  was  indeed  but  an  indifferent 
psychologist,  and  rested  his  refutation  of  Berkeley  chiefly 
upon  misplaced  ridicule  and  equally  misplaced  appeals  to 
common  sense.  He  tauntingly  asked  why  the  great  idealist 
did  not  illustrate  his  doctrine  by  walking  over  a  precipice  or 
thrusting  his  head  against  a  lamp-post,  as  if  Berkeley  had 
ever  denied  that  such  a  congeries  of  phenomenal  actions 
would  be  followed  by  disastrous  phenomenal  effects.  No 
wonder  that  a  philosophy  founded  upon  such  flimsy  psycho- 
logical analysis  should  never  have  obtained  wide  acceptance 
among  trained  thinkers ;  and  no  wonder  that  Idealism  should 
still  by  many  persons  be  considered  as  unrefuted. 

It  is  by  making  the  unphilosophic  inference  that  because 
we  cannot  know  the  objective  reality  therefore  there  exists 
none,  that  Idealism  destroys  itself.  As  long  as  we  admit 
that  the  possibilities  of  things  are  limited  by  the  possibilities 
of  thought,  we  cannot  overturn  Idealism :  we  must  go  on 
and  grant  that  because  we  can  form  no  conception  of  matter 
apart  from  the  conditions  imposed  upon  it  by  our  intel- 
ligence, therefore  no  thing  can  exist  apart  from  such  con- 
ditions. As  Prof.  Ferrier  forcibly  states  the  case,  "  I  defy 
you  to  conceive  anything  existing  unperceived.  Attempt  to 
imagine  the  existence  of  matter  when  mind  is  absent.  You 
cannot,  for  in  the  very  act  of  imagining  it,  you  include  an 
ideal  percipient.  The  trees  and  mountains  you  imagine  to 
exist  away  from  any  perceiving  mind,  what  are  they  but  the 
very  ideas  of  your  mind,  which  you  transport  to  some  place 
where  you  are  not  ?  In  fact,  to  separate  existence  from  per- 
ception is  radically  impossible.  It  is  God's  synthesis,  and 
man  cannot  undo  it."  All  this  is  equivalent  to  saying  that 
1  Spencer,  Principles  of  Psychology,  voL  L  p.  206. 


80  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  I. 

we  cannot  "imagine  an  object  apart  from  the  conditions 
under  which  we  know  it.  We  are  forced  by  the  laws  of  our 
nature  to  invest  objects  with  tbe  forms  in  which  we  perceive 
them.  We  cannot  therefore  conceive  anything  which  has 
not  been  subject  to  the  laws  of  our  nature,  because  in  the 
very  act  of  conception  those  laws  come  into  play."1  But 
when  the  idealist  proceeds  to  infer  that  because  we  cannot 
conceive  objects  otherwise,  therefore  they  cannot  exist  other- 
wise, he  assumes  that  knowledge  is  absolute,  and  thus  knocks 
away  the  psychological  basis  upon  which  his  premise  was 
founded.  If  we  would  consistently  refrain  from  violating 
the  doctrine  of  relativity,  we  must  state  the  idealist's  pre- 
mise, but  avoid  his  conclusion.  We  admit  that  "  the  trees 
and  mountains  you  imagine  to  exist  away  from  any  perceiv- 
ing mind  "  do  not  really  exist  as  trees  and  mountains  except 
in  relation  to  some  perceiving  mind.  We  admit  that  matter 
does  not  exist  as  matter,  save  in  relation  to  our  intelligence ; 
since  what  we  mean  by  matter  is  a  congeries  of  qualities — 
weight,  resistance,  extension,  colour,  etc. — which  have  been 
severally  proved  to  be  merely  names  for  divers  ways  in  which 
our  consciousness  is  affected  by  an  unknown  external  agency. 
Take  away  all  these  qualities,  and  we  freely  admit,  with  the 
idealist,  that  the  matter  is  gone ;  for  by  matter  we  mean, 
with  the  idealist,  the  phenomenal  thing  which  is  seen,  tasted, 
and  felt.  But  we  nevertheless  maintain,  in  opposition  to  the 
idealist,  that  something  is  still  there,  which,  to  some  possible 
mode  of  impressibility  quite  different  from  conscious  intel- 
ligence, might  manifest  itself  as  something  wholly  dif- 
ferent from,  and  incomparable  with,  matter;  but  which, 
to  anything  that  can  be  called  conscious  intelligence, 
must  manifest  itself  as  matter.  We  freely  admit  that 
what  we  mean  by  a  tree  is  merely  a  congeries  of  quali- 
ties that  are  visual  and  tactual,  and  perhaps  odorous,  sapid, 
or  sonorous.     If  we  were  destitute  of  sight,  touch,  smell, 

1  Lewes,  History  of  Philosophy,  vol.  ii.  p.  302. 


ch.  iv.]  PHENOMENON  AND  NOUMENON.  81 

taste,  hearing,  and  muscular  sensibility,  all  these  qualities 
would  cease  to  exist,  and  therefore  the  tree  would  cease  to  be 
tree.  But  it  does  not  follow  that  the  Unknown  Eeality 
which  caused  in  us  these  groups  of  sensations  has  ceased  to 
exist.  Our  ineradicable  belief  is  that  it  still  exists,  and 
would  assume  the  qualities  which  constitute  tree  as  soon  as 
our  capacity  of  sensation  were  restored.  And  we  recognize, 
as  in  accordance  with  the  dictates  of  common-sense,  the  sug- 
gestion that  if  some  Being  with  seventy  senses,  like  the 
denizen  of  the  planet  Saturn  in  Voltaire's  inimitable  satire, 
were  to  come  into  the  presence  of  this  same  Unknown 
Eeality,  there  would  undoubtedly  arise  in  this  Being  the 
consciousness  of  a  congeries  of  qualities  different  from  that 
which  constitutes  tree.  We  further  recognize  that  if  this 
Being  were  endowed  with  some  mode  of  impressibility  so 
different  from  ours  that  the  name  "  intelligence  "  would  not 
apply  to  it,  this  same  Unknown  Eeality  might  generate  in 
such  a  Being  some  state  or  states  wholly  different  from  what 
we  know  as  the  cognition  of  a  material  object.  I  say,  we 
regard  these  conclusions  as  consistent  with  that  extended 
and  systematized  common-sense  which  is  called  science.  In 
stating  them,  we  assert,  to  the  fullest  extent  to  which  the 
exigencies  of  human  language  will  admit  of  our  asserting  it, 
the  relativity  of  all  knowledge ;  and  we  admit  everything 
which  the  idealists  have  established  upon  the  sound  basis  of 
psychologic  induction.  What  we  refuse  to  admit  is  the  legi- 
timacy of  the  idealist's  inference  that  the  Unknown  Eeality 
beyond  consciousness  does  not  exist.  We  assert,  on  the  con- 
trary, that  the  doctrine  of  relativity  cannot  even  be  intel- 
ligibly stated  without  postulating  the  existence  of  this  Un- 
known Eeality,  which  is  independent  of  us.  The  proposition 
that  the  tree  or  the  mountain  exists  as  tree  or  mountain  only 
in  so  far  as  it  is  cognized,  becomes  utter  nonsense  when  we 
seek  to  suppress  the  conception  of  a  persistent  Something 
which  becomes  tree  or  mountain  in  being  cognized. 
vol.  I.  a 


bs  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

Before  prooeeding  farther  to  develope  this  argument,  we 
may  fitly  include  Positivism  along  with  Idealism  as  opposed 
to  the  ("inclusion  which  we  are  about  to  defend.     The  posi- 
tion of  Positivism  with  reference  to  this  question  has  never 
"been  definitely  stated  by  Comte,  or  by  his  most  eminent  and 
consistent  disciple,  M.  Littre,  and  it  may  indeed  be  doubted 
whether,  with  all  their  remarkable  endowments  of  another 
sort,  either  of   these  thinkers  lias  ever  given   evidence  of 
enough  power  of  psychologic  analysis  to  grapple  with  such  a 
problem.     It  is  certain  that  M.  Littre"   neither  admits  nor 
understands  (so  as  to  state  it  correctly)  the  Spencerian  doc- 
trine that  there  exists  an  Unknowable  Reality;  and  it  will 
be  amply  shown  hereafter  that  Comte  not  only  ignored  the 
existence  of  such   a  Reality,  but  implicitly  and  practically 
denied  it.     It  is  to  Mr.  Mill,  who  has  on  different  occasions 
given  in  his  assent  to  nearly  all  the  doctrines  which  are  dis- 
tinctively characteristic  of  the  Positive  Philosophy,  that  we 
must  look  for  an  explicit  declaration  of  the  precise  relation 
of  Positivism  to  Idealism.     Happily  Mr.  Mill  has  given  us, 
in  his  work  on  the  Hamiltonian  philosophy,  an  elucidation 
of  his  views  which  leaves  no  room  for  misconception ;  and 
in  his  recent  essay  on  Berkeley  he  has  presented,  in  a  single 
sentence,  the  clue  to  the  Positivist  position.    Among  the  un- 
impeachable discoveries  which  philosophy  owes  to  Berkeley, 
says  Mr.  Mill,  was  that  of  "  the  true  nature  and  meaning  of 
the  externality  which  we  attribute  to  the   objects   of   our 
senses :  that  it  does  not  consist  in  a  substratum  supporting  a 
set  of  sensible  qualities,  or  an  unknown  somewhat,  which, 
not  being  itself  a  sensation,  gives  us  our  sensations,  but  con- 
sists in  the  fact  that  our  sensations  occur  in  groups,  held 
together  by  a  permanent  law,  and  which  come  and  go  inde- 
pendently of  our  volitions  or  mental  processes."     Note  that 
Mr.  Mill  does  not  endorse  the  Berkeleian  denial  of  the  objec- 
tive reality.     True  to  the  fundamental  canon  of  Positivism, 
he  states  merely  the  contents  of  the  observed  facts,  which,  as 


ch.  iv.]  PHENOMENON  AND  NOUMENON.  83 

we  also  admit,  were  correctly  stated  by  Berkeley ;  but  con- 
cerning the  existence  of  the  Unknowable  Reality,  which  we 
regard  as  the  inevitable  implication  of  the  observed  facts,  he 
is  silent.  And  his  silence,  as  well  as  his  assertion,  is  strictly 
in  harmony  with  the  spirit  of  Positivism. 

The  distinction,  then,  between  Idealism  and  Positivism 
may  be  taken  to  be  this.  The  former  asserts  that  the  un- 
knowable objective  reality  is  a  mere  figment  of  the  imagina- 
tion, while  the  latter  refrains  from  making  any  assertion  with 
reference  to  it.  The  former,  therefore,  tacitly  violates  the 
doctrine  of  relativity  by  assuming  that  the  possibilities  of  our 
thinking  are  to  be  taken  as  the  measure  of  the  possibilities 
of  existence :  the  latter  perceives  that  such  an  assumption  is 
illegitimate,  but  seeks  to  escape  the  difficulty  by  ignoring  the 
question  at  issue.  In  other  words,  while  unwilling  to  contra- 
vene the  doctrine  of  relativity  upon  which  it  professes  to 
found  itself,  it  is  yet  content  to  state  but  half  the  doctrine. 

Bearing  this  in  mind,  we  may  return  to  the  argument, 
which  will  now  be  understood  as  directed  against  the 
position  which  Idealism  and  Positivism  hold  in  common. 
And  we  may  observe,  first,  that  the  very  sentence  just  quoted 
from  Mr.  Mill  affords  a  most  excellent  illustration  of  the  im- 
possibility of  stating  either  the  position  of  Idealism  or  that 
of  Positivism  without  implying  the  existence  of  that  objec- 
tive reality  which  the  former  would  impugn  and  which  the 
latter  would  ignore.  The  sum  of  the  whole  matter,  according 
to  Mr.  Mill,  is  "  the  fact  that  our  sensations  occur  in  groups, 
held  together  by  a  permanent  law,  and  which  come  and  go 
independently  of  our  volitions  or  mental  processes."  How 
comes  it  that  our  sensations  occur  in  groups  ?  Why  is  it  that 
they  are  held  together  by  a  permanent  law  ?  And,  above  all, 
how  does  it  happen  that  they  come  and  go  independently  of 
our  volitions  or  mental  processes  ?  Suppress  the  notion  of  a 
Something  outside  of  consciousness  which  determines  this 
coming  and  going  of  our  sensations,  and  we  have  no  altema- 

o  2 


84  comic  rin Loxopnr.  [pt.  i. 

tiv-  but  to  regard  them  either  as  self-determined,  which  leads 
us  finally  to  Hegeliam,  or  as  not  determined  at  all,  which  is 
inconceivable.  Mr;  Mill's  .statement  is  either  nonsense,  or 
else  it  tacitly  postulates  that  Absolute  Existence  which  it 
overtly  professes  to  ignore.  It  is  as  impossible,  therefore,  to 
ignore  as  it  is  to  deny  Absolute  Existence.  Without  assum- 
ing Something  independent  of  consciousness,  it  is  impossible 
for  either  Idealism  or  Positivism  to  state  the  theorem  in 
which  it  is  sought  either  to  impugn  or  to  ignore  the  existence 
of  anything  beyond  consciousness. 

The  suicide  to  which  Idealism  or  Positivism  is  inevitably 
driven  is  further  exhibited  in  the  following  citation  from  Mr. 
Spencer.  After  reminding  us  that  all  the  arguments  which 
go  to  demonstrate  the  relativity  of  knowledge  set  out  by 
assuming  objective  existence,  he  goes  on  to  say :  "  Not  a  step 
can  be  taken  towards  the  truth  that  our  states  of  conscious- 
ness are  the  only  things  we  can  know,  without  tacitly  or 
avowedly  postulating  an  unknown  Something  beyond  con- 
sciousness. The  proposition  that  whatever  we  feel  has  an 
existence  which  is  relative  to  ourselves  only  cannot  be 
proved,  nay,  cannot  even  be  intelligibly  expressed  without 
asserting,  directly  or  by  implication,  an  external  existence 
which  is  not  relative  to  ourselves.  When  it  is  argued  that 
what  we  are  conscious  of  as  sound  has  no  objective  reality 
as  such,  since  its  antecedent  is  also  the  antecedent  to  what 
we  are  conscious  of  as  jar,  and  that  the  two  consequents, 
being  unlike  one  another,  cannot  be  respectively  like  their 
common  antecedent ;  the  validity  of  the  argument  depends 
wholly  on  the  existence  of  the  common  antecedent  as  some- 
thing that  has  remained  unchanged  while  consciousness 
has  been  changing.  If,  after  finding  that  the  same  tepid 
water  may  feel  warm  to  one  hand  and  cold  to  the  other, 
it  is  inferred  that  warmth  is  relative  to  our  own  nature  and 
our  own  state,  the  inference  is  valid  only  supposing  the 
activity  to  which  these  different  sensations  are  referred,  is 


en.  iv.]     PHENOMENON  AND  NOUMENON.  80 

an  activity  out  of  ourselves  which  has  not  been  modified  by 
our  own  activities. 

"  One  of  two  things  must  be  asserted : — either  the  ante- 
cedents of  each  feeling,  or  state  of  consciousness,  exist  only 
as  previous  feelings  or  states  of  consciousness ;  or  else  they, 
or  some  of  them,  exist  apart  from,  or  independently  of,  con- 
ciousness.  If  the  first  is  asserted,  then  the  proof  that  what- 
ever we  feel  exists  re]atively  to  ourselves  only,  becomes 
doubly  meaningless.  To  say  that  a  sensation  of  sound  and 
a  sensation  of  jar  cannot  be  respectively  like  their  common 
antecedent  because  they  are  not  like  one  another,  is  an  empty 
proposition ;  since  the  two  feelings  of  sound  and  jar  never 
have  a  common  antecedent  in  consciousness.  The  combina- 
tion of  feelings  that  is  followed  by  the  feeling  of  jar,  is 
never  the  same  as  the  combination  of  feelings  that  is  fol- 
lowed by  the  feeling  of  sound;  and  hence  not  having  a 
common  antecedent,  it  cannot  be  argued  that  they  are  unlike 
it.  Moreover,  if  by  antecedent  is  meant  constant  or  uniform 
antecedent  (and  any  other  meaning  is  suicidal)  then  the 
proposition  that  the  antecedent  of  sound  exists  only  in  con- 
sciousness, is  absolutely  irreconcilable  with  the  fact  that  the 
feeling  of  sound  often  abruptly  breaks  in  upon  the  series  of 
feelings  otherwise  determined,  where  no  antecedent  of  the 
specified  kind  has  occurred.  The  other  alternative,  therefore, 
that  the  active  antecedent  of  each  primary  feeling  exists 
independently  of  consciousness,  is  the  only  thinkable  one. 
It  is  the  one  implicitly  asserted  in  the  very  proposition  that 
feeiiugs  are  relative  to  our  own  natures  ;  and  it  is  taken  for 
granted  in  every  step  of  every  argument  by  which  this 
proposition  is  proved.'' 

"  Hence  our  firm  belief  in  objective  reality — a  belief  which 
metaphysical  criticisms  cannot  for  a  moment  shake.  When 
we  are  taught  that  a  piece  of  matter,  regarded  by  us  as  exist- 
ing externally,  cannot  be  really  known,  but  that  we  can  know 
only  certain  impressions  produced  on  us,  we  are  yet,  by  the 


86  COSMIC  PIIJLOSOPHY.  [it.  i. 

relativity  of  our  thought,  compelled  to  think  of  these  in 
relation  to  a  positive  cause — the  notion  of  a  real  existence 
which  generated  these  impressions  becomes  nascent.  The 
momentum  of  thought  inevitably  carries  us  beyond  con- 
ditioned existence  to  unconditioned  existence  ;  and  this  ever 
persists  in  us  as  the  body  of  a  thought  to  which  we  can  give 
no  shape.  ...  At  the  same  time  that  by  the  laws  of  thought 
we  are  rigorously  prevented  from  forming  a  conception  ol 
absolute  existence,  we  are  by  the  laws  of  thought  equally 
prevented  from  ridding  ourselves  of  the  consciousness  of 
absolute  existence ;  this  consciousness  being,  as  we  here  see, 
the  obverse  of  our  self-consciousness.  And  since  the  only 
possible  measure  of  relative  validity  among  our  beliefs,  is  the 
degree  of  their  persistence  in  opposition  to  the  efforts  made 
to  change  them,  it  follows  that  this  which  persists  at  all 
times,  under  all  circumstances,  and  cannot  cease  until  con- 
sciousness ceases,  has  the  highest  validity  of  any."  x 

We  have  now  reached  a  point  at  which  we  may  make 
specific  mention  of  the  Scepticism  of  Hume,  which  is  simply 
Idealism  carried  a  step  farther,  to  the  denial  of  the  existence 
of  any  subjective,  as  wrell  as  of  any  objective  reality.  It  was 
easy  for  Hume,  in  criticizing  Berkeley,  to  show  that  we  know 
no  more  of  Mind  in  itself  than  of  Matter  in  itself;  since 
what  we  know  is  only  our  states  of  consciousness.  But 
when  Hume  proceeded  to  argue  that  nothing  can  be  known 
to  exist  save  the  series  of  impressions  or  states  of  conscious- 
ness wrhich  we  interpret  as  occurring  in  ourselves,  he  fell 
into  the  very  same  error  of  inference  into  which  Berkeley 
had  fallen.  We  may  admit,  with  Hume,  that  we  know 
nothing  directly  save  modifications  of  consciousness.  Changes 
of  consciousness  are  indeed  the  materials  out  of  which  our 
knowledge  is  entirely  built.  But  there  can  be  no  changes 
in   our  consciousness   unless    there   exist  something  which 

>  Spencer,  Principles  of  Psychology,  vol.  i.  p.  209  ;  First  Principles,  pp. 
J3-06. 


ch.  iv.]  PHENOMENON  AND  NOUMENON.  87 

is  changed,  and  something  which  causes  the  changes.  There 
can  be  no  impressions  unless  there  exist  a  something  which 
is  impressed  and  a  something  which  impresses.  Take  away 
from  the  argument  all  the  terms  which  relate  to  real  exis- 
tence, and  the  argument  becomes  nonsense.  The  Sceptic, 
like  the  Idealist,  cannot  stir  a  step  without  admitting  that 
real  existence  which  he  is  striving  to  deny.  Abolish  object 
and  subject,  and  the  states  of  consciousness  vanish  also. 
Abolish  the  noumenon,  and  the  phenomenon  is  by  the  same 
act  annihilated. 

Thus  our  ineradicable  belief  in  the  absolute  existence  of 
Something  which  underlies  and  determines  the  series  of 
changes  which  constitutes  our  consciousness,  rests  upon  the 
strongest  of  foundations, — upon  the  unthinkableness  of  its 
negation.  Thus  it  becomes  apparent  that  the  arguments  of 
the  Idealists  and  the  Sceptics  "  consist  of  a  series  of  dependent 
propositions,  no  one  of  which  possesses  greater  certainty  than 
the  single  proposition  to  be  disproved."  Without  postulating 
Absolute  Being — existence  independent  of  the  conditions  of 
the  process  of  knowing — we  can  frame  no  theory  whatever, 
either  of  internal  or  of  external  phenomena.  And  since,  as 
I  have  already  observed,  what  we  mean  by  reality  is  "  inex- 
pugnable persistence  in  consciousness,"  it  follows  that  Abso- 
lute Being  is  the  Beality  of  Bealities,  and  that  we  are  justified 
in  ever  tacitly  regarding  it  as  such. 

But  now,  what  do  we  mean  by  this  affirmation  of  absolute 
reality  independent  of  the  conditions  of  the  process  of  know- 
ing ?  Do  we  mean  to  recur  to  the  style  of  thinking  in  vogue 
anterior  to  Berkeley,  and  affirm,  in  language  savouring 
strongly  of  scholasticism,  that  beneath  the  phenomena  which 
we  call  subjective  there  is  an  occult  substratum  Mind,  and 
beneath  the  phenomena  which  we  call  objective  there  is  an 
occult  substratum  Matter  ?  Our  conclusion  cannot  be  stated  in 
any  such  form,  and  we  need  have  no  hesitation  in  acknow- 
ledging our  debt  of  gratitude  to  Berkeley  for  having  swept 


«*  cosmic  pniwsoriL  r.  [PT.  i. 

philosophy  clean  of  such  a  rubbish  of  scholastic  terminology. 
Our  conclusion  is  simply  this,  that  no  theory  of  phenomena, 
external  or  internal,  can  he  framed  without  postulating  an 
Absolute  Existence  of  which  phenomena  are  the  manifesta- 
tions. And  now  let  us  carefully  note  what  follows.  We 
cannot  identify  this  Absolute  Existence  with  Mind,  since 
what  we  know  as  Mind  is  a  series  of  phenomenal  manifesta- 
tions:  it  was  the  irrefragable  part  of  Hume's  argument  that, 
in  the  eye  of  science  as  in  the  eye  of  common-sense,  Mind 
means  not  the  occult  reality  but  the  group  of  phenomena 
which  we  know  as  thoughts  and  feelings.  Nor  can  we 
identify  this  Absolute  Existence  with  Matter,  since  what  we 
know  as  Matter  is  a  series  of  phenomenal  manifestations;  it 
was  the  irrefragable  part  of  Berkeley's  argument  that,  in 
the  eye  of  science  as  in  the  eye  of  common-sense,  Matter 
means  not  the  occult  reality  but  the  group  of  phenomena 
which  we  know  as  extension,  resistance,  colour,  etc.  Abso- 
lute Existence,  therefore, — the  Eeality  which  persists  inde- 
pendently of  us,  and  of  which  Mind  and  Matter  are  the 
phenomenal  manifestations, — cannot  be  identified  either  with 
Mind  or  with  Matter.  Thus  is  Materialism  included  in  the 
same  condemnation  with  Idealism. 

See  then  how  far  we  have  travelled  from  the  scholastic 
theory  of  occult  substrata  underlying  each  group  of  pheno- 
mena. These  substrata  were  mere  ghosts  of  the  phenomena 
themselves ;  behind  the  tree  or  the  mountain  a  sort  of  phan- 
tom tree  or  mountain  which  persists  after  the  body  of  the 
perception  has  gone  away  with  the  departure  of  the  percipient 
mind.  Clearly  this  is  no  scientific  interpretation  of  the  facts, 
but  is  rather  a  specimen  of  naive  barbaric  thought  surviving 
in  metaphysics.  The  tree  or  the  mountain  being  groups  of 
phenomena,  what  we  assert  as  persisting  independently  of 
the  percipient  mind  is  a  Something  which  we  are  una  bin 
to  condition  either  as  tree  or  as  mountain. 

And  now  we  come  down  to  the  very  bottom  of  *hz  pro- 


cu.  iv.]  PHENOMENON  AND  NOV  MEN  ON.  89 

blem.  Since  we  do  postulate  Absolute  Existence,  and  do 
not  postulate  a  particular  occult  substance  underlying  eacb. 
group  of  phenomena,  are  we  to  be  understood  as  implying 
that  there  is  a  simile  Being  of  which  all  phenomena,  internal 
and  external  to  consciousness,  are  manifestations?  Such 
must  seem  to  be  the  inevitable  conclusion,  since  we  are  able 
to  carry  on  thinking  at  all,  only  under  the  relations  of  Dif- 
ference and  No-difference.  We  cognize  any  phenomenal 
object,  as  tree  or  mountain,  only  through  certain  likenesses 
and  unlikenesses  among  our  states  of  consciousness  ;  and 
only  through  a  revival  of  the  same  likenesses  and  unlike- 
nesses can  we  represent  the  same  object  in  memory  or 
imagination.  It  may  seem  then  that,  since  we  cannot  attri- 
bute to  the  Absolute  Eeality  any  relations  of  Difference,  we 
must  positively  ascribe  to  it  No-difference.  Or,  what  is  the 
same  thing,  in  refusing  to  predicate  multiplicity  of  it,  do  we 
not  virtually  predicate  of  it  unity  ?  We  do,  simply  because 
we  cannot  think  without  so  doing.  Nevertheless  we  must 
bear  in  mind  that  the  relations  of  Difference  and  No-dif- 
ference under  which  we  are  compelled  to  do  all  our  thinking, 
are  relations  just  as  subjective  as  any  of  the  more  complex 
relations  of  colour,  or  resistance,  or  figure,  which  are  built  up 
out  of  them ;  and  we  cannot  say  that  there  exists,  inde- 
pendently of  consciousness,  anything  answering  to  what  we 
know*  ac  Difference  or  as  No-difference.  "This" — to  quote 
Mr.  Spencer — "  is  readily  demonstrable.  The  sole  elements, 
and  the  indissoluble  elements,  of  the  relation  [of  Difference] 
are  these  : — a  kind  of  feeling  of  some  kind  ;  a  feeling  coming 
next  to  it,  which,  being  distinguishable  as  another  feeling, 
proves  itself  to  be  not  homogeneous  with  the  first ;  a  feeling 
of  shock,  more  or  less  decided,  accompanying  the  transition. 
This  shock,  which  arises  from  the  difference  of  the  two  feel- 
ings, becomes  the  measure  of  that  difference — constitutes  by 
its  occurrence  the  consciousness  of  a  relation  of  difference, 
and  by  its  degree  the  consciousness  of  the  amount  of  dif- 


90  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY,  [pt.  I. 

ference ;  that  is,  the  relation  of  difference  as  present  in  con- 
sciousness is  nothing  more  than  a  change  in  consciousness. 
How,  then,  can  it  resemble,  or  be  in  any  way  akin  to,  its 
source  beyond  consciousness  ?     Here  are  two  colours  which 
we  call  unlike.     As  they  exist  objectively  the  two  colours 
are    quite    independent — there    is    nothing    between   them 
answering  to  the  change  which  results  in  us  from  contemplat- 
ing first  one  and  then  the  other.  Apart  from  our  consciousness 
they  are  not  linked  as  are  the  two  feelings  they  produce  in 
us.     Their  relation  as  we  think  it,  being  nothing  else  than  a 
change  of  our  state,  cannot  possibly  be  parallel  to  anything 
between  them,  when  they  have  both  remained  unchanged."1 
Since,  therefore,  the  relations  of  Difference  and  No-dif- 
ference, which  lie  at  the  bottom  of  our  conceptions  of  unity 
and  plurality,   are  shown  to  be  subjective  relations  which 
cannot  be  predicated  of  objective  existence,  it  follows  that 
in  strictness  the  Absolute  Existence  of  which  phenomena  are 
the  manifestations  cannot   be   regarded   as  either  single  or 
multiple.     Nevertheless,  as  was  hinted  a  moment  ago,  by  the 
very  relativity  of  our  thinking  we  must  speak  of  it  as  either 
the  one  or  the  other.     From  this  dilemma  there  is  no  escape. 
Yet,  provided  we  recognize  the  purely  symbolic  character  of 
the  language  employed,  we  may  speak  of  Absolute  Existence 
in  the  singular  number;  especially  if  we  bear  in  mind  that 
by  such  a  mode  of  expression  we  mean  merely  to  indicate 
that  while  the  nature  of  That  which  is  manifested  in  pheno- 
mena proves  to  be  inscrutable,  "  the  order  of  its  manifesta- 
tions throughout  all  mental  phenomena  proves  to  be  the  same 
as  the  order  of  its   manifestations  throughout  all  material 
phenomena."  2 

Here  we  touch  upon  a  point  which  cannot  profitably  bs 
considered  until  after  we  have  expounded  the  axiom  of  the 
Persistence  of  Force  and  the  Doctrine  of  Evolution  which 

1  Spencer,  Principles  of  Psychology,  vol  i.  p.  224. 
8  Spencer,  op.  cit.  vol.  i.  p.  627. 


ch.  iv.]  PHENOMENON  AND  NOUMENON.  91 

is  founded  thereon.  And  before  we  can  even  begin  with 
this  exposition,  there  remain  to  be  discussed  sundry  pre- 
liminary questions,  which  will  occupy  us  through  several 
chapters.  For  the  present  it  will  be  enough  for  us  to  carry 
in  mind,  as  the  net  result  of  the  whole  foregoing  inquiry, 
the  conclusion  that  the  doctrine  of  relativity,  when  fully 
stated,  affirms  the  objective  existence  of  an  Unknowable 
Eeality,  of  which  all  phenomena  whatever  are  the  know- 
able  manifestations. 

"With  the  statement  of  this  conclusion,  our  chapter  pro- 
perly ends.  It  is  desirable,  however,  that,  before  proceeding 
to  consider  the  questions  next  in  order,  we  should  briefly 
sum  up  the  results  at  which  we  have  already  arrived.  By 
adding  a  little  here  and  a  little  there,  now  a  definite  outline 
and  now  a  bit  of  shading,  we  have  gradually  produced  a 
rough  sketch  of  a  general  theory  of  things.  The  inquiry 
will  proceed  through  future  chapters,  in  the  hope  of  slowly 
converting  this  rough  sketch  into  a  more  or  less  finished 
picture ;  but  for  the  moment  we  may  advantageously  take  a 
step  backward,  and  contemplate,  in  a  single  view,  the  main 
characteristics  of  our  work. 

At  the  outsat  our  philosophy  was  seen  to  be  characterized 
by  the  assertion  that  all  knowledge  is  relative, — an  assertion 
which  carried  with  it  the  rejection  of  all  ontological  specula- 
tion, whether  metaphysical  or  theological,  concerning  the 
nature  of  that  which  exists  absolutely.  But  in  thus 
characterizing  our  philosophy  we  went  but  half-way  toward 
defining  it.  In  order  to  know  thoroughly  what  anything  is, 
we  must  also  know  what  it  is  not.  Few  philosophers,  since 
the  seventeenth  century,  have  rejected  the  doctrine  of 
relativity.  The  footing  upon  which  this  doctrine  stands 
resembles  too  much  the  footing  upon  which  rest  the 
demonstrated  truths  of  physical  science,  to  admit  of  its 
being  explicitly  rejected,  unless  by  those  bold  spirits  who, 


92  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  l 

like  ITegel,1  do  Dot  scruple  to  hurl  their  anathemas  in  the 
face  of  physical  science  itself.  It  is  none  the  less  quite 
possible  for  the  doctrine  to  be  at  the  same  time  explicitly 
asserted  and  implicitly  ignored.  Berkeley  and  Hume,  Kant 
and  Hamilton,  and  Comte,  have  one  and  all  asserted  the 
relativity  of  knowledge  and  the  vanity  of  ontological 
speculation.  But  our  philosophy  is  not  that  of  Kant,  or 
Hamilton,  or  Berkeley,  or  Hume,  or  Comte.  It  is  not  the 
philosophy  of  Kant,  for  it  denies  tliat  we  can  have  any 
criterion  of  truth  save  that  which  is  furnished  by  perfect 
congruity  of  experience.  At  the  same  time  it  differs  in 
many  respects  from  the  experience-philosophy  which  is 
associated  with  the  name  of  Locke  ;  since  it  denies  that 
the  subject  is  the  passive  recipient  of  effects  wrought  by 
the  object,  and,  accepting  the  Leibnitzian  view  that  the 
subject  actively  cooperates  with  the  object  in  each  act  of 
cognition,  it  grounds  upon  this  very  fact  its  doctrine  of  the 
relativity  of  knowledge.  In  its  criterion  of  truth  also  it 
differs  from  the  experience-philosophy  of  Locke  and  Hume 
as  represented  to-day  by  Mr.  Mill ;  for  it  finds  its  criterion 
of  truth  in  that  indissoluble  coherence  among  inner  pheno- 
mena, which,  in  accordance  with  the  postulate  that  all 
knowledge  is  the  pioduct  of  experience,  must  have  been 
generated  by  an  equally  indissoluble  coherence  among  outer 
phenomena.  Thus,  too,  it  avoids  the  empiricism  which  has 
in  too  many  ways  hampered  the  Lockian  philosophy :  for 
it  keeps  clear  of  the  misconception  that  all  truths  are 
susceptible  of  logical  demonstration,  and  recognizes  the 
fact   that   at  the   bottom   of    all  proof  there  must  be   an 

1  Even  Hegel,  indeed,  in  the  following  passage,  admits  the  impossibility 
of  knowing  things  in  themselves: — "Das  Diwiansich  als  solches  ist  nicht 
Anderes  als  die  leere  Abstraction,  von  dem  man  allerdings  nichts  wissen  kann, 
eben  daran  vveil  es  die  Abstraction  von  aller  Bestimmung  sein  soil." — 
Logik,  ii.  127.  The  admission,  however,  is  in  Hegel's  case  utterly  fruit- 
less, since  he  falls  into  the  same  inconsistency  as  Kant,  maintaining  that  we 
have  a  test  of  truth  independent  of  experience,  and  thus  setting  up  the 
Subjective  Method,  as  will  appear  in  the  next  chapter. 


dh.  iv.]  PHENOMENON  AND  NOUMENOK.  93 

ultimate  datum  of  consciousness  which  transcend?  proof. 
Thus  our  philosophy  can  be  identified  neither  with  that  of 
Kant  nor  with  that  of  Locke.  Again,  it  differs  from  the 
philosophy  of  Hamilton,  both  in  other  points  not  needful 
to  be  mentioned,  and  in  this,  that  it  does  not  regard  the 
assertion  of  the  doctrine  of  relativity  as  compatible  with 
the  assertion  that  we  can  know  the  primary  qualities  of 
matter  otherwise  than  as  modifications  of  our  consciousness. 
But,  while  refusing  to  assist  in  this  violation  of  the  doctrine 
of  relativity  committed  by  the  philosophy  of  Eeid  and 
Hamilton,  it  refuses  also  to  join  in  the  very  different  viola- 
tion of  the  doctrine  which  is  committed  by  the  philosophy 
of  Berkeley  and  Hume.  For  while  it  admits,  to  the  fullest 
extent,  the  position  that  we  can  never  know  the  Absolute 
Existence  of  which  phenomena  are  the  manifestations,  it  at 
the  same  time  asserts  that  the  doctrine  of  relativity  cannot 
even  be  intelligibly  expressed  unless  Absolute  Existence  is 
affirmed. 

In  this  last  assertion  our  philosophy  declares  itself  anta- 
gonistic to  Positivism.  For  the  Positive  Philosophy,  refusing 
to  deal  with  anything  beyond  the  immediate  content  of 
observed  facts,  utterly  ignores  the  Absolute  Existence  which 
is  manifested  in  the  world  of  phenomena,  neither  affirming 
nor  denying  it.  I  shall  point  out  hereafter  the  complicated 
embarrassment  in  which  this  indifferent  attitude  has  left  the 
Positive  Philosophy.  It  must  suffice  now  to  insist  upon  the 
fact  that  any  philosophy  which,  like  the  system  here  ex- 
pounded, affirms  Absolute  Existence  is  by  such  affirmation 
fundamentally  distinguished  from  Positivism.  Because  our 
philosophy,  like  Positivism,  rejects  all  ontological  specula- 
tion ;  and  because,  like  Positivism,  it  seeks  to  found  itself 
upon  scientific  doctrines  and  employ  none  but  scientific 
methods ;  and  because,  moreover,  it  is  arrayed,  like  Posi- 
tivism, in  opposition  to  sundry  popular  metaphysical  and 
theological  doctrines  ;  it  is  customary  to  confound  our  philo- 


94  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  I. 

sophy  with  Positivism,  and  thus  to  accredit  us  with  a  whole 
group  of  opinions  which  we  unreservedly  repudiate.  Our 
philosophy,  however,  is  quite  as  distinct  from  Positivism  as 
it  is  from  Idealism  or  Scepticism,  or  from  the  so-called 
Critical  Philosophy  of  Kant.  In  all  these  systems  we  re- 
cognize a  germ  of  truth ;  to  all  of  them  we  acknowledge  our 
indebtedness  for  sundry  all-important  suggestions;  but  to 
none  of  them  do  we  owe  allegiance. 

In  the  case  of  Positivism,  the  error  is,  for  reasons  just  now 
indicated,  one  which  is  likely  to  be  often  committed.  And 
on  this  account  I  shall,  in  the  course  of  the  following  ex- 
position, have  frequent  occasion  to  examine  and  criticize  the 
opinions  characteristic  of  the  Positive  Philosophy.  By  the  time 
we  have  arrived  at  the  end  of  our  journey,  no  possible  excuse 
will  be  left  available  for  those  who  would  seek  to  identify  our 
philosophy  with  Positivism. 

But  now  for  this  system  of  philosophy,  which,  in  our  crude 
outline-sketch,  is  seen  to  be  different  from  the  systems  of 
Locke,  Berkeley,  Hume,  Kant,  Hamilton,  and  Comte,  some 
characteristic  title  is  surely  needed..  There  are,  indeed,  grave 
objections  to  be  urged  against  fettering  philosophy  with 
names  which  may  very  soon  come  to  connote  divers  unes- 
sential opinions  of  which  philosophy  would  be  glad  to  rid 
itself.  Nevertheless  we  cannot  get  along  without  names.  If 
only  to  avoid  tedious  circumlocution,  some  name  is  needed 
by  which  to  designate  this  philosophy  which  has  been  rudely 
delineated.  The  required  name  is  suggested  by  the  definition 
of  the  scope  of  philosophy  given  in  the  second  chapter  of 
this  work.  It  was  there  shown  that,  while  acknowledging  a 
common  genesis  with  science  and  with  ordinary  knowledge, 
philosophy  has  still  to  concern  itself  with  those  widest  truths 
which  hold  throughout  all  classes  of  phenomena,  and  with 
which  science,  restricted  as  it  is  to  the  investigation  of  special 
classes  of  phenomena,  is  incompetent  to  deal.  In  other 
words,  we  declared  the  scope  of  our  philosophy  to  be  the 


en.  iv.]  PHENOMENON  AND  NOUMENON.  95 

study  of  the  universe  or  Cosmos ;  and  ir  accordance  with 
this  definition,  we  may  '.tly  designate  our  philosophy  as 
Cosmic  Philosophy.  We  shall  hereafter  discover  in  this 
epithet  sundry  points  of  fitness  not  yet  indicated.  But  for 
the  present  Ave  may  go  on  to  use  the  phrase  whenever  re- 
quired, entrusting  our  complete  justification  to  the  inquiries 
which  are  to  follow. 

In  conclusion,  let  me  say  a  few  words  in  reply  to  the 
objection,  sometimes  urged  from  metaphysical  quarters,  that 
such  a  philosophy  as  this  Cosmic  Philosophy,  here  sketched 
out,  is  not  adequate  to  supply  our  highest  intellectual 
needs.  At  the  bottom  of  this  objection,  as  at  the  bottom 
of  that  persistent  clinging  to  ontological  speculations  (in 
spite  of  their  often-demonstrated  worthlessness)  which  we 
frequently  meet  with,  there  lies  the  vague  half-defined  belief 
that  in  giving  up  our  knowledge  of  noumena  or  the  Nou- 
menon,  we  are  leaving  for  ourselves  nothing  but  shadows. 
"  We  increase  the  seeming  unreality  of  that  phenomenal 
existence  which  we  can  alone  know,  by  contrasting  it  with  a 
noumenal  existence  which  we  imagine  would,  if  we  could 
know  it,  be  more  truly  real  to  us."  But  we  are  led  astray  by 
the  unavoidable  ambiguity  of  words.  To  make  a  supposition 
which  savours  somewhat  strongly  of  hibernicism  :— even  if  we 
could  know  objects  apart  from  the  conditions  imposed  upon 
them  in  the  act  of  knowing,  such  (so-called)  knowledge 
would  be  utterly  useless.  This  is  admirably  illustrated  in  a 
passage  from  Mr.  SpeDcer's  "  First  Principles  "  with  which  I 
will  conclude  this  chapter : — 

"  The  .uaintenanoe  of  a  correspondence  between  internal 
actions  and  external  actions,  which  both  constitutes  our  life 
at  each  moment  and  is  the  means  whereby  life  is  continued 
through  subsequent  moments,  merely  requires  that  the  agencies 
acting  upon  us  shall  be  known  in  their  coexistences  and 
sequences,  and  not  that  they  shall  be  known  in  themselves. 


96  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  l 

Tf  x  and  y  arc  two  uniformly  connected  properties  in  some 
outer  object,  while  a  and  b  are  the  effects  they  produce 
in  our  consciousness ;  and  if  while  the  property  x  produces 
in  us  the  indifferent  mental  state  a,  the  property  y  produces 
in  us  the  painful  mental  state  b  (answering  to  a  physical 
injury)  ;  then,  all  that  is  requisite  for  our  guidance,  is,  that 
x  being  the  uniform  accompaniment  of  y  externally,  a  shall 
be  the  uniform  accompaniment  or  o  internally;  so  that  when, 
by  the  presence  of  x,  a  is  produced  in  consciousness,  b,  or 
rather  the  idea  of  b,  shall  follow  it,  and  excite  the  motions  by 
which  the  effect  of  y  may  be  escaped.  The  sole  need  is  that 
a  and  b  and  the  relation  between  them,  shall  always  answer 
to  x  and  y  and  the  relation  between  them.  It  matters 
nothing  to  us  if  a  and  b  are  like  x  and  y  or  not.  Could  they 
be  exactly  identical  with  them,  we  should  not  be  one  whit 
the  better  off;  and  their  total  dissimilarity  is  no  disadvan- 
tage to  us." 

Obviously  this  same  illustration  will  apply  equally  to  cases 
where  moral  injury  or  intellectual  error  is  to  be  avoided.  And 
since  the  ultimate  function  of  philosophy  is  to  be  the  intel- 
lectual guide  of  our  lives, — since  our  ultimate  aim  in  ascer- 
taining the  relations  of  coexistence  and  sequence  among 
phenomena,  is  to  shape  our  actions,  physical,  mental  and 
moral,  in  accordance  with  these  relations, — it  follows  that 
the  philosophy  whose  character  and  scope  I  have  here  indi- 
cated is  sufficient  for  our  highest  needs.  And  thus  we  are 
led  to  the  conclusion  that  the  object  of  that  metaphysical 
philosophy  which  seeks  to  ascertain  the  nature  of  things  in 
themselves,  is  not  only  unattainable,  but  would  have  no 
imaginable  value,  even  if  it  could  be  attained.  The  proper 
attitude  of  the  mind,  when  face  to  face  with  the  Unknown 
Keality,  is,  therefore,  not  a  speculative,  but  an  emotional 
attitude.  It  belongs,  as  we  shall  by  and  by  more  distinctly 
see,  not  to  Philosophy,  but  to  Keligion. 


CHArTEK  V» 

THE   SUBJECTIVE  AND   OBJECTIVE   METHODS. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  preceding  chapter  I   enumerated 
some  of  the  principal  characteristics  which  distinguish  our 
Cosmic   Philosophy,  regarded   as   a   synthesis   of    scientific 
truths,  from  the  various   metaphysical   systems  which,    by 
overtly  or  implicitly  contravening  the  doctrine  of  relativity, 
have  sought    to  arrive  at  some  higher  or  remoter  kind   of 
truth  than  that   which  the  scientific  coordination  of  expe- 
riences can  furnish.    So  far  as  the  psychology  of  the  question 
is  concerned,  the  doctrine  of  relativity,  with  its  various  im- 
plications, has  been  expounded  as  fully  as  is  needful  for  our 
purposes.     But  this  fundamental  doctrine  has  also  an  all- 
important  logical  aspect,  which  we  shall  do  well  to  consider 
in  the  present  chapter.     Having  marked  out  the  field  to 
which  our  inquiries  ruu^t  be  confined,  the  next  thing  in 
order  is  to  indicate  the  Method  upon  which  our  inquiries 
must  be  conducted.     The  possession  of  a  legitimate  method 
of  research  is  even  more  important  than  the  possession  of 
sound  doctrine,  since  it  is   only  through  the   former  that 
the  latter  can  be  attained.     Clearly  we  shall  never  reach 
Truth  if  we  begin  by  mistaking  our  guide-post,  and  start 
on  the  road  that  leads  to  error.     A  false  method  leads  to 
false  doctrine  which,  reacting  on  the  mind,  confirms  it  in 
vol,  i  H 


98  COSMIC  PILOSOniY.  [pt.  t. 

the  employment  of  the  false  method.  Hence  thl  supreme 
importance  which  the  history  of  philosophy  attaches  to  those 
thinkers — like  Aristotle,  Bacon,  Descartes,  and  Comte — who 
have  signalized  themselves  as  the  founders  of  new  methods. 
And  hence  the  immense  influence,  for  good  or  for  ill,  which 
such  thinkers  have  exerted. 

The  two  general  views  of  philosophy  which  it  has  been 
the  aim  of  the  previous  chapters  to  exhibit  in  radical  oppo- 
sition and  contrast,  are  still  farther  distinguished  by  the 
adoption  of  two  very  different  methods  of  inquiry.  That 
metaphysical  philosophy,  which  exhausts  its  energies  in  the 
vain  attempt  to  frame  tenable  hypotheses  concerning  the 
objective  order  of  things,  reaches  its  ephemeral  conclusions 
by  the  use  of  a  method  which,  on  grounds  that  will  presently 
appear,  is  called  the  Subjective  Method.  The  Cosmic  Philo- 
sophy, which  aims  only  to  organize  into  a  universal  body  of 
truth  the  sum  of  general  conclusions  obtained  by  science, 
adopts  as  the  only  trustworthy  guide  for  its  inquiries  the 
method  of  science,  which,  in  contrast  to  the  other,  is  called 
the  Objective  Method.  To  describe  these  different  methods, 
and  thus  to  arrive  at  a  clear  notion  of  the  practical  distinc- 
tion between  a  metaphysical  and  a  scientific  philosophy,  is 
the  object  of  the  present  chapter. 

The  subjective  method  rests  upon  the  assumption  that 
the  possibilities  of  thought  are  coextensive  or  identical  with 
the  possibilities  of  things.  Having  built  upon  some  subjective 
foundation,  assumed  as  axiomatic,  a  <*;ven  order  of  concep- 
tions, it  assumes  that  the  order  of  phenomena  must  corre- 
spond to  it.  It  is  satisfied  with  confronting  one  thought  with 
another  thought,  and  does  not  trouble  itself  to  confront  the 
thought  with  the  phenomenon.  If  its  hypothesis  is  made  up 
of  congruous  elements,  it  takes  it  for  granted  that  the  in- 
ternal congruity  must  be  matched  by  an  external  congruity. 
It  applies  to  the  order  of  conceptions  a  logical,  not  an  ex- 
perimental test.     If  its  conclusions  flow  inevitably  from  its 


dh.  v.]  THE  TWO  METHODS.  99 

premises,  it  proclaims  the  conclusions  as  true,  forgetting  that 
the  premises  need  testing  as  much  as  the  inferences.  It  is 
ever  on  its  guard  against  fallacies  of  ratiocination,  but  ev°v 
unprotected  against  fallacies  of  observation.  If  a  conclusion 
is  "  involved  in  the  idea,"  according  to  the  current  phrase,  it 
assumes  without  challenge  that  it  is  also  conformable  to  fact. 
That  I  may  not  be  supposed  to  be  caricaturing  instead  of 
describing  the  only  method  which  can  enable  us  to  stir  one 
step  in  ontological  speculation,  let  me  cite  some  of  the 
canons  of  that  method,  as  enunciated  by  its  most  illustrious 
masters.1 

"  There  is  one  basis  of  science,"  says  Descartes,  "  one  test 
and  rule  of  truth,  namely,  that  whatever  is  clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly conceived  is  true."  Schelling  tells  us  :  "  It  is  a  fun- 
damental belief  that  not  only  do  things  exist  independently 
of  us,  but  that  our  ideas  so  completely  correspond  with  them 
that  there  is  nothing  in  the  things  which  is  not  in  our 
ideas."  And  now  let  us  hear  Hegel :  "  What  is  Truth  ? 
In  ordinary  language  we  name  the  concordance  of  an  object 
with  our  conception  of  it,  truth.  In  philosophical  language, 
on  the  contrary,  truth  is  the  concordance  of  the  meaning 
with  itself."  Or,  as  one  of  Hegel's  followers  expresses  it,  in 
more  characteristic  terminology :  "  Since  the  Whole  is  ideally 
in  the  Mind,  the  I  has  only  to  yield  itself  to  its  I-hood,  in 
order  to  see  the  Absolute  in  itself  as  there  immediately 
given."  To  the  same  effect  says  Plato,  in  the  Phredo :  "  It 
seemed  to  me,  therefore,  that  I  ought  to  have  recourse  to 
reasons,  and  in  them  to  contemplate  the  truth  of  things. 
Thus  always  adducing  the  reason  which  I  judge  to  be 
strongest,  I  pronounce  that  to  be  true  which  appears  to  me 
to  accord  with  it ;  those  which  do  not  accord  with  it,  I  deny 
to  be  true."  And  in  the  Eepublic,  he  tells  us :  "  Whenever 
a  person  strives  by  the  help  of  dialectics  to  start  in  pursuit 

1  The  illustrations  given  in  the  following  paragraph  maybe  found,  along  with 
others,  in  Mr.  Lewes's  excellent  work  on  Aristotle,  pp.  79-81,  103,  104. 

H   2 


100  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  t 

of  every  Tcnlity  by  a  simple  process  of  reason  independent 
of  all  sensuous  information,  never  flinching  until  by  an  act 
of  pure  intelligence  he  has  grasped  the  real  nature  of  good, 
he  arrives  at  the  very  end  of  the  intellectual  world." 

Plato  furnishes  an  excellent  illustration  of  the  statement 
above  made,  that  a   false  method  leads    to   false   doctrine, 
which,  reacting  on  the  mind,  confirms  it  in  the  employment 
of  the  false  method.     From  the  fact  that  a  comparatively 
uninstructed  mind  can,  with  a  little  explanation,  be  made  to 
perceive  the  necessary  truth  of  a  few   simple   geometrical 
axioms,  and  to  follow  the  steps  of  a  demonstration  founded 
thereon, — Plato,  in  that  charming  dialogue,  the  Meno,  infers 
that  all  knowledge  is  reminiscence.     How   could   the   un- 
educated youth  have  come  by  that  knowledge  which  enables 
him  to  see  at  once  that  when  a  square  is  divided  by  a  line 
which  bisects  the  two  opposite  sides,  the  two  portions  are 
equal  ?     The  naive  reply  is,  that  he  must  have  acquired  it  in 
a  prior  state  of  existence,  when  the  soul,  not  yet  encumbered 
with  the  body,  had  free  communion  with  Ideas.     See  what 
an  enormous  hypothesis  Plato  erects  upon  a  slender  basis  of 
fact,  and  forthwith  accepts  as  a  justification  of  that  very 
subjective  method  by  the  aid  of  which  it  was  erected.     For 
he  elsewhere  tells  us  that  since  all  knowledge  is  a  revival  ot 
pre-existent   ideas,  therefore   "  from   any  one   idea   we    can 
arrive  at  all  others,  owing  to  the  logical  connection  existing 
between  them  ; "  and  in  this  conclusion  he  states  the  funda- 
mental  canon   of   the  subjective  method,  as  employed   by 
modern  metaphysicians  from  Descartes  to  Hegel. 

This  illustration  shows  us,  in  a  curious  and  unexpected 
way,  how  intimately  the  Method  of  the  a  priori  metaphy- 
sician is  wrapped  up  with  his  Psychology,  and  how  closely  akin 
to  each  other  have  been  the  multifarious  manifestations  of 
the  two  in  ancient  and  modern  times.  Between  the  sub- 
jective method  and  the  doctrine  of  the  a  priori  character 
of  necessary  truths  the  kinship  is  so  clvise  that  Mr.  Lewes  is 


oh.  v.J  THE  TWO  METHODS.  101 

justified  in  declaring  that  "all  that  has  been  written  on 
method  [from  the  scientific  point  of  view]  is  imperilled  if 
there  can  be  any  valid  evidence  for  the  existence  of  an 
avenue  through  which  knowledge  may  be  reached  without 
recourse  to  experience."  Granting  the  a  priori  origin  of 
necessary  truths,  the  validity  of  the  subjective  method  is 
established,  at  least  so  far  as  transcendental  inquiries  are 
concerned.  It  is  therefore  interesting  to  observe  the  remark- 
able similarity  between  the  positions  held  respectively  by 
Plato,  Descartes,  and  Kant,  with  reference  to  this  twofold 
question.  In  each  case  the  psychological  problem  is  to 
explain  the  existence  of  knowledge,  or  at  least  of  concep- 
tive  faculty,  that  is  apparently  congenital,  and  that  is  also 
apparently  inexplicable  as  the  product  of  individual  expe- 
rience. How  does  the  uneducated  youth  come  by  his  rapid 
intuition  of  space-relations  ?  Plato,  as  we  have  seen,  replies 
with  his  hypothesis  of  reminiscence,  Descartes  with  his 
hypothesis  of  innate  ideas,  and  Kant  with  his  hypothesis 
of  a  priori  forms  of  thought ;  and  between  the  three  answers, 
in  spite  of  the  wide  superficial  divergences,  how  striking  is 
the  fundamental  similarity  !  We  shall  hereafter  see  how  the 
Doctrine  of  Evolution,  proceeding  strictly  upon  the  objective 
method,  supplies  us  with  an  interpretation  which  adequately 
accounts  for  the  phenomena,  but  which  leaves  no  room  for 
the  inferences  which  metaphysicians,  from  Plato  to  Kant, 
have  founded  thereon.  Meanwhile,  it  has  already  been 
sufficiently  proved  that  the  universality  and  necessity  of 
unconditional  propositions,  whether  relating  to  space-relations 
or  to  any  other  relations  whatever,  must  inevitably  result 
from  absolute  uniformity  in  the  organic  registration  of 
experiences,  and  therefore  docs  not  involve  any  a  priori 
element. 

For  the  present,  returning  to  Plato,  let  us  note  some  of  the 
results  to  which  his  method  not  unnaturally  ltd  him,  espe- 
cially as  we  shall  thus  perceive  the  true  affiliation  of  modern 


102  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  i. 

metaphysics  upon  the  crude  attempts  of  the  ancients  at 
general  science,  in  so  far  as  concerns  the  method  employed. 
"We  open  the  Timseus,"  says  Mr.  Lewes,  "and  learn  that 
the  Universe  was  generated  as  an  animal,  with  a  soul, 
because  that  was  best.  Whatever  is  generated  must  neces- 
sarily have  body,  and  be  visible  no  less  than  tangible. 
Nothing  can  be  visible  without  Fire,  nothing  tangible  with* 
out  a  Solid,  nothing  solid  without  Earth.  Tims  the  first 
step  in  creation  was  the  production  of  two  elements.  But 
it  is  impossible  for  two  things  to  cohere  without  the  inter- 
vention of  a  third.  A  bond  is  necessary,  and  of  all  bonds 
the  most  beautiful  is  that  which  as  nearly  as  possible  unites 
into  one  both  itself  and  the  things  bound.  Had  the  substance 
of  the  universe  been  a  superficies  without  depth,  one  medium 
or  bond  would  have  sufficed :  but  as  it  was  a  solid,  and  solids 
are  never  one  only,  but  always  joined  by  two  bonds,  there- 
fore the  Creator  placed  Water  and  Air  between  Fire  and 
Earth.  These  are  the  Four  Elements,  and  the  reason  has 
been  given  why  they  are  only  four.  The  elements  are 
fashioned  into  a  perfect  sphere,  because  the  sphere  is  the 
most  perfect  of  figures,  and  most  resembles  itself.  Although 
this  universe  was  made  an  animal,  it  was  made  becoming 
and  congruous.  Hence  it  had  neither  eyes  nor  ears,  there 
being  nothing  external  for  it  to  see  and  hear ;  no  lungs,  for  it 
needed  not  respiration ;  no  digestive  organs ;  no  secretory 
organs ;  no  feet,  for  its  motion  is  peculiar,  namely  circular, 
and  circular  motion  requires  no  feet,  since  it  is  not  pro- 
gression. The  mathematicians  having  discovered  the  five 
regular  solids,  Plato  naturally  made  great  use  of  them  in 
his  cosmology.  Four  of  them  were  represented  by  the  four 
elements — the  Earth  was  a  Cube,  Fire  a  Tetrahedron,  Water 
an  Octahedron,  and  Air  an  Icosahedron.  This  left  the  fifth, 
the  Dodecahedron,  without  a  representative ;  accordingly,  it 
was  assigned  to  the  universe  as  a  whole.  ...  It  is  needless 
to  add  that  Plato  never  thinks  of  offering  any  better  reason 


ch.  v.]  THE  TWO  METHODS.  103 

for  these  propositions  than  that  they  are  by  him  judged 
sufficient.  If  one  of  his  hearers  had  asked  him  why  water 
might  not  be  a  cube,  and  air  an  octahedron, — or  what  proof 
there  was  of  either  being  one  or  the  other, — he  would 
have  replied  'It  is  thus  I  conceive  it.  This  is  best.'1  Let 
us  proceed.  The  universe,  we  learn,  has  a  soul  which  moves 
in  perpetual  circles.  Man  also  has  a  soul  which  is  but  a 
portion  thereof,  consequently  it  also  moves  in  circles.  To 
make  the  resemblance  more  complete,  man's  soul  is  also 
enclosed  in  a  spherical  body, — namely,  the  head.  But  the 
gods  foresaw  that  this  head,  being  spherical,  would  roll  down 
the  hills  and  could  not  ascend  steep  places ;  to  prevent  this,  a 
body  with  limbs  was  added,  that  it  might  be  a  locomotive 
for  the  head." 2 

It  will  perhaps  be  said  that  such  speculations  as  these 
could  not  be  found  in  the  writings  of  any  modern  philosopher, 
no  matter  what  his  method  might  be ;  yet  in  view  of  certain 
vagaries  presently  to  be  cited  from  Hegel  and  Comte,  it  will 
hardly  be  safe  for  us  to  seek  refuge  in  any  general  assertion 
as  to  the  superiority  of  the  moderns  over  the  ancients  in 
sobriety  of  philosophizing.  These  speculations  of  Plato 
exhibit  in  strong  relief  the  treacherousness  of  the  subjective 
method  when  left  to  itself  and  allowed  to  range  at  large  over 
the  field  of  phenomena.  In  ancient  times  there  was  no  organ- 
ized physical  knowledge  to  stand  in  the  way  of  such  vagaries 
as  those  just  cited.  In  modern  times  there  exists  an  immense 
body  of  established  scientific  truth  which  checks  the  natural 
extravagance  of  the  intellect  left  to  itself.  Moreover,  as  the 
subjective  and  objective  methods  have  always  coexisted,  and 
as  one  has  never  been  exclusively  employed  without  the  other, 
tne  majority  of  systems  have  worn  a  semblance  of  proba- 
bility which   prevents  their  shocking  us  like   the   almost 

1  It  is  to  be  noted,  however,  that  this  wildest  use  of  the  subjective  method 
characterized  Plato  chiefly  in  his  old  age,  whev,  like  Comte,  he  had  begun  to 
assume  a  pontifical  tone.     Of  this  more  inon. 

*  Lewes,  Aristotle,  p.  105. 


104  COXMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

purely  subjective  system  of  the  Platonic  Timrios.  Never- 
theless, that  even  modern  science,  in  all  the  plenitude  of  its 
power,  is  unable  to  rein  in  the  obstinately  metaphysical  mind, 
may  be  seen  in  the  following  morsel  from  Hegel,  of  all 
modern  thinkers  the  most  consistent  in  his  adherence  to  the 
subjective,  and  in  his  scorn  of  the  objective,  method.  "  The 
substance  or  essence  of  matter,"  says  Hegel,  "is  Gravity  ;  that 
of  spirit  is  Freedom.  But  matter  is  only  heavy  inasmuch 
as  it  tends  to  a  centre.  It  is  composite  ;  its  very  existence 
is  external  to  itself — sic  bestcht  ausser  einander.  Thus  the 
essence  of  matter  consists  in  the  search  for  a  unity  which 
would  be  its  destruction."  Speculations  of  this  sort  would 
not  carry  us  very  far  toward  the  construction  of  a  science  of 
mechanics.  Yet  they  are  quite  in  keeping  with  the  funda- 
mental tenet  "that  Nature  being  only  the  result  of  the  idea 
of  a  Creative  Intelligence  from  which  we  ourselves  emanate, 
we  may,  without  the  assistance  of  experience,  and  by  our 
pure  intellectual  activity,  find  the  Creator's  ideas." 

Compare  also  these  explanations  which  the  subjective 
method  gives  of  the  crying  of  newly-born  infants.  Physiology 
explains  this  crying  as  the  result  of  the  novel  impression  of 
the  cool  atmosphere  upon  the  surface  of  the  infant's  body, 
and  of  the  sudden  inrush  of  air  into  the  lungs,  which  com- 
bine to  excite  the  reflex  action  of  screaming.  If  there  is 
anything  distinctly  psychical  about  it — which  is  in  the 
highest  degree  improbable — it  could  be  merely  a  sub-conscious 
sense  of  discomfort.  But  according  to  Hegel,  the  cry  of  the 
child  just  born  indicates  "  a  revelation  of  his  exalted  nature." 
"His  ideas  being  excited  into  activity,  (!)  the  child  feels 
himself  straightway  penetrated  with  the  certitude  that  he 
has  a  right  to  exact  from  the  external  world  the  satisfaction 
of  his  needs, — that  the  external  world  compared,  to  the  soul 
amounts  to  nothing."  According,  however,  to  Hegel's  follower, 
Michelet,  the  cry  of  the  new-born  child  reveals  "the  horror 
felt  bv  the  soul  at  being  enslaved  to  nature ; "  or  according  tc 


ch.  v.]  THE  TWO  ME  1  HODS.  105 

another  German  writer,  it  is  an  outburst  of  wrath  on  the 
nart  of  the  new-comer  at  finding  himself  powerless  against 
environing  circumstances !  Wherein  is  all  this  better  than 
the  cosmological  vagaries  of  Plato  ?  Or  wherein  is  it  better 
than  the  speculations  of  those  early  Christian  theologians  who 
adduced  the  crying  of  the  new-born  babe  in  proof  of  its 
innate  wickedness,  and  erected  thereupon  an  argument  in 
support  of  the  doctrine  that  the  unbaptized  child  is  in  danger 
of  damnation  ? 

These  wilder  extravagances  of  the  subjective  method  may 
serve  to  illustrate  for  us  the  close  kinship  between  meta- 
physics and  mythology,  and  to  justify  the  pregnant  observa- 
tion of  Mr.  Chauncey  Wright,  that  the  method  of  the  d  priori 
philosopher  is  but  an  evanescent  form  of  the  method  employed 
by  the  barbarian  in  constructing  his  quaint  theories  of  the 
universe.     When  deeply  considered,  the  subjective  method, 
whether  employed  by  the  metaphysician  or  by  the  myth- 
maker,  will  be  seen  to  consist  in  following  the  lead  of  a  train 
of  associated  ideas,  without  pausing  to  test  the  validity  of 
the  association  by  interpreting  the  ideas  in  terms  of  sensible 
experiences, — or,  in   other  words,  without  confronting   the 
order  of  conceptions  with  the  observed  or  observable  order  of 
phenomena.     As  I  have  elsewhere  observed,  "it  is  through 
the  operation  of  certain  laws  of  ideal  association  that  all 
human  thinking,  that  of  the  highest  as  well  as  that  of  the 
lowest   minds,  is  conducted ;    the  discovery  of  the  law  of 
gravitation,  as  well  as  the  invention  of  such  a  superstition  as 
the  Hand  of  Glory,  is  at  bottom  but  a  case  of  association  of 
ideas.     The  difference  between  the  scientific  and  the  mytho- 
logic  inference  consists  solely  in  the  number  of  checks  which 
in  the  former  case  combine  to  prevent  any  other  tnan  the 
true  conclusion  from  being  framed  into  a  proposition  to  which 
the  mind  assents.     Countless  accumulated  experiences  have 
taught  the  modern  that  there  are  many  associations  of  ideas 
«vhich  do  not  correspond  to  any  actual  connection  of  cause 


106  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  l 

and  effect  in  the  world  of  phenomena;  and  he  has  learned 
accordingly  to  apply  to  his  newly -framed  notions  the  rigid 
test  of  Verification.  Besides  which  the  same  accumulation 
of  experiences  has  built  up  an  organized  structure,  of  ideal 
associations  into  which  only  the  less  extravagant  newly- 
framed  notions  have  any  chance  of  fitting.  The  primitive 
man,  or  the  modern  savage  who  is  to  some  extent  his 
counterpart,  must  reason  without  the  aid  of  these  multi- 
farious checks.  That  immense  mass  of  associations  which 
answer  to  what  are  called  physical  laws,  and  which  in  the 
mind  of  the  civilized  modern  have  become  almost  organic, 
have  not  been  formed  in  the  mind  of  the  savage  ;  nor  has  he 
learned  the  necessity  of  experimentally  testing  any  of  his 
newly-framed  notions,  save  perhaps  a  few  of  the  commonest. 
Consequently,  there  is  nothing  but  superficial  analogy  to 
guide  the  course  of  his  thought  hither  or  thither,  and  the 
conclusions  at  which  he  arrives  will  be  determined  by 
associations  of  ideas  occurring  apparently  at  hap-hazard.1 
Hence  the  quaint  or  grotesque  fancies  with  which  European 
and  barbaric  folk-lore  is  filled,  in  the  framing  of  which  the 
myth-maker  was  but  reasoning  according  to  the  best  methods 
at  his  command."  2  Obviously  the  broad  contrast  here  indi- 
cated between  modern  and  primeval  thinking  is  at  bottom 
simply  the  contrast  between  the  use  of  the  objective  and  the 
subjective  methods, — between  the  constant  recourse  to  experi- 
mental tests  and  the  implicit  reliance  upon  mere  subjective 
congruity. 

But  it  may  fairly  be  urged  that  we  ought  to  consider  the 

1  Do  we  not  see  here  how  close  is  the  connection,  psychologically,  between 
dreaming,  insanity,  myth-making,  and  reasoning  according  to  the  subjective 
method  ?  It  is  not  without  reason  that  we  commonly  speak  of  the  "  dreams  " 
of  metaphysicians ;  and  the  distinguishing  mark  of  insanity  is  the  inability 
to  test  the  validity  of  one's  conceptions  by  confronting  them  with  the  pheno- 
mena. On  the  other  hand  it  is  in  constantly  applying  die  test  of  Verification 
that  waking-thought,  common-sense,  and  scientific  reasoning  exhibit  their 
kinship  with  one  another. 

8  Myll-s  and  Myth-makers,  p.  216. 


en.  v.]  THE  TWO  METHODS.  107 

subjective  method  as  exhibited  in  some  of  its  more  plausible 
proceedings,  if  we  would  properly  contrast  it  with  the  objective 
method  by  which  scientific  discoveries  are  made.  Let  us  do 
so;  and,  as  we  have  just  now  alluded  to  the  discovery  of  the 
law  of  gravitation  as  an  instance  of  association  of  ideas 
corroborated  by  the  employment  of  the  objective  method,  let 
us  choose  our  example  from  the  history  of  that  discovery. 
Doubtless  the  reasoning  seemed  very  sound  and  plausible  to 
the  Greeks,  which,  starting  from  the  assumptions  that  the 
circle  is  the  most  perfect  of  figures,  and  that  all  motion  is 
naturally  circular,  proceeded  to  the  inferences  that  the 
planets  move  in  circular  orbits,  and  that  their  motion  is 
uniform.  For  twenty  centuries  this  reasoning  passed  un- 
challenged. Until  Kepler's  time  no  one  thought  it  necessary 
to  make  observations  and  ascertain  whether,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  the  planetary  orbits  were  circular  ;  nor  previous  to 
Galileo  did  any  one  think  of  verifying  the  premise  that  all 
motion  is  naturally  circular ;  nor  did  it  occur  to  any  one  that 
the  conclusion  might  not  inevitably  follow  from  the  premise, 
— since  the  planets  might,  as  in  fact  they  do,  move  in  an 
orbit  which  is  not  the  natural  path  of  motion  when  uninterfered 
with.  Now  mark  how  ill  it  fared  with  this  subjective  order 
of  conceptions  as  soon  as  it  was  confronted  with  the  order  of 
phenomena.  In  the  first  place,  Galileo  proved,  by  reasoning 
upon  direct  observations,  that  all  motion  is  naturally  recti- 
linear, and  not  circular, — that,  if  you  could  set  a  body- 
moving,  apart  from  all  disturbing  conditions,  it  would  go  on 
fv>r  ever  in  a  straight  line.  This  destroyed  the  premise  of  the 
subjective  syllogism.  Secondly,  Kepler  proved,  by  actual 
observation,  that  the  planets  do  not  move  in  circular  orbits, 
with  a  uniform  rate  of  velocity  ;  but  that  they  move  in 
elliptic  orbits,  with  a  velocity  which  periodically  increases 
and  diminishes.  This  upset  the  subjective  conclusion.  And 
thirdly,  the  passage  from  premise  to  conclusion  was  seen  to 
have   been   wrongly  made,  since  while   the   planets   would 


108  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  l 

naturally  move  in  straight  lines  (supposing  the  motion  of 
each  one  to  be  independent),  they  do  actually  move  in 
ellipses. 

In  this  example  is  seen  the  essential  vice  of  the  subjective 
method,  the  feature  by  which  it  is  distinguished  from  the 
objective  method.  It  ignores  Verification,  which  is  the 
comparison,  by  means  of  observation,  experiment  and  deduc- 
tion, of  the  order  of  conceptions  with  the  order  of  phenomena. 
Now  verification  is  the  great  engine  of  the  objective 
method.  That  method  takes  little  heed  of  the  Cartesian 
maxim,  that  whatever  complex  proposition  can  be  distinctly 
formulated  must  be  true  ;  the  history  of  science  having  only 
too  frequently  shown  that  a  proposition  may  be  very 
distinctly  formulated  and  yet  be  false.  "  That  the  velocity 
acquired  by  a  falling  body,  at  any  point,  must  be  proportional 
to  the  space  through  which  it  had  fallen,"  was  a  very  distinct 
and  plausible  hypothesis,  so  long  as  it  was  not  confronted 
with  the  phenomena.  Yet  it  did  not  withstand  the  applica- 
tion of  the  test  of  truth,  "  since  its  negation  was  thinkable, 
and  there  was  the  equally  distinct  idea  of  the  velocity  being 
proportional  to  the  time  by  which  to  oppose  it.  Then 
came  the  necessity  for  verification;"  and  by  this  criterion 
Galileo  ascertained  that  the  first-named  conception — the  one 
which  had  been  held  by  the  ancients — was  erroneous,  "  and 
although  the  alternative  conception  which  replaced  it  was 
not  more  intelligible,  it  had  the  supreme  advantage  of  being 
a  more  accurate  description  of  the  order  of  nature."  There- 
fore "  in  all  verifiable  cases  we  dare  not  be  confident  that  an 
explanation  is  true  because  its  truth  seems  possible.  Our 
conceptions  of  possibility  are  too  contingent  to  form  a  secure 
ground  of  deduction.  Thus,  to  Galileo,  it  at  first  seemed 
possible  that  velocity  must  be  proportional  to  space,  because, 
in  so  conceiving  it,  he  had  not  distinctly  visible  to  his  mind 
all  the  elements  of  the  problem  ;  in  other  words,  all  the 
possibilities."     But  when,  in  the  process  of  verification  ths 


ch.  v.]  THE  TWO  METHODS.  109 

omitted  elements  of  the  case  were  brought  before  the  mind, 
he  discovered  "  that  the  seeming  possibility  was  a  fiction." 
The  other  alternative,  that  velocity  is  proportional  to  time, 
was  found  to  be  the  true  one,  and  the  only  one  which  could 
withstand  the  application  of  the  test  of  truth.  The  counter- 
proposition,  that  the  velocity  is  not  proportional  to  the  time,1 
is  strictly  unthinkable.  For  it  involves  the  assertion  that 
the  same  amount  of  gravitative  force  will  cause,  in  a  given 
second  of  time,  an  increment  of  velocity  which  is  either 
greater  or  less  than  the  increment  of  velocity  which  it  will 
cause  in  the  succeeding  second.  We  are  required  to  suppose, 
in  the  first  case,  an  addition  to  the  velocity  without  any 
addition  to  the  force  which  causes  it ;  in  the  second  case,  we 
are  required  to  suppose  a  subtraction  from  the  velocity 
without  any  subtraction  from  the  force ;  and  therefore,  in 
either  case,  we  are  required  to  frame  in  thought  an  equation 
between  something  and  nothing, — which  is  impossible. 

Thus  the  objective  method  starts  by  verifying  its  premise  ; 
and,  not  content  with  any  apparent  congruity  in  its  syllogistic 
processes,  it  does  not  definitely  accept  the  conclusion  until 
that  also  has  been  confronted  with  the  phenomena.  And,  if 
in  the  verified  conclusion  there  is  involveu  an  unexplained 
residuum,  far  from  giving  up  its  conclusion  out  of  deference 
to  some  imaginary  subjective  necessity,  it  acknowledges  the 
need  of  a  new  search  in  order  to  account  for  such  residuum. 
The  old  conclusion,  that  planetary  motion  is  circular  and 
uniform  because  motion  is  naturally  circular  and  uniform,  left 
no  unexplained  residual  phenomenon.  As  an  explanation  it 
was  complete,  though  utterly  false.  If  asked  why  the 
olanets  move  in  circles  with  a  uniform  velocity,  the  ancients 

1  To  spenk  of  the  velocity  as  proportional  to  the  time  is,  however,  a  some- 
what lax  use  of  mechanical  terminology.     Strictly  speaking,  the  velocity  is  a 

inction  of  t.  s  time  and  of  gravity.  Since  gravitative  force  increases  as  the 
body  approaches  the  earth,  there  are  increased  increments  of  velocity  in  suc- 
cessive  equal  times.     Introducing  this  correction  into  the  sentences  which 

ollow,  the  reasoning  becomes  strictly  accurate. 


1 10  008  MIC  PUILOSOPH  Y.  [pt.  i. 

might  have  replied,  and  in  fact  did  reply,  that  it  is  because 
their  motion  is  nninterfered  with.  On  the  other  hand 
Kepler's  theorem,  that  planetary  motion  is  elliptical  and 
rhythmically  accelerated  and  retarded  although  motion  is 
naturally  rectilinear  and  uniform,  left  an  unexplained  residual 
phenomenon.  As  an  explanation  it  was  true,  hut  it  was 
incomplete.  When  asked  why  the  planets  do  not  move  in 
straight  lines  with  uniform  velocity,  Kepler  recognized  a 
difficulty  which  must  be  explained,  and  which  he  tried  to 
solve.  In  his  perplexity  he  had  recourse  to  the  subjective 
method,  and  suggested  that  the  planets  were  perhaps  living 
animals  moved  by  their  own  volitions,  or  else  that,  as  many 
of  the  Christian  Fathers  thought,  they  were  controlled  in 
their  movements  by  presiding  archangels.  Could  we  read 
all  the  unwritten  annals  of  that  time,  we  should  doubtless 
find  that  many  educated  persons  rejected  Kepler's  discoveries 
on  account  of  this  unexplained  residuum  ;  attaching  a 
highei  value  to  the  mutual  congruity  of  a  set  of  conceptions 
than  to  their  verification.  And  in  fact  we  know  that  many 
refused  to  accept  the  discovery  of  the  accelerated  and 
retarded  motion  of  the  planets,  on  the  subjective  ground 
that  it  was  "  undignified  "  for  heavenly  bodies  to  hurry  and 
slacken  their  pace  according  to  Kepler's  law.1  Now  mark 
the  different  behaviour  of  the  objective  method.  Attaching 
a  higher  value  to  ascertained  conformity  with  observation 
than  to  any  presumed  subjective  congruity  of  conceptions, 
Newton  recognized  the  "unnatural"  elliptic  motion  of  the 

1  On  similar  grounds  the  Aristotelians  denied  the  existence  of  the  solar 
spots  ;  it  being  impossible  "that  the  Eye  of  the  Universe  should  suffer  from 
ophthalmia."  See  Proctor,  The  Sun,  p.  163.  — "  How  can  we  admit  thf.t 
Nature  could  so  restrict  herself  as  to  form  all  organic  and  inorganic  combina- 
tions in  the  mould  of  four  substances,  chosen  at  hazard, — hydrogen,  hydro- 
chloric acid,  water,  and  ammonia, — and  to  produce  nothing  but  variations  on 
these  four  themes?"  Remark  of  Kolbe,  cited  in  Wurtz,  Introduction  to 
Chemical  Phihsojihy,  p.  97. — And  in  like  manner  we  sometimes  hear  silly 
people  reject  the  Darwinian  theory  on  grounds  of  "dignity," — it  being  sup- 
posed  that  we  are,  in  some  incomprehensible  way,  "degraded"  by  the  dia« 
cov.  ry  that  our  remote  ancestors  were  dumb  beasts. 


ch.  v.  THE  TWO  METHODS.  11) 

planets  and  the  "  unnatural "  variations  of  that  motion  as 
residual  facts  which  needed  to  be  explained  by  a  verifiable 
hypothesis.  Since  the  planets  are  deflected  at  every  instant 
from  the  rectilinear  paths  in  which  their  own  momentum 
would  for  ever  carry  them,  there  must  be  some  unknown 
force  acting  in  composition  with  their  momentum.  What  ia 
that  unknown  force  ?  That  it  was  the  same  as  the  force 
which  causes  apples  to  fall,  that  it  varied  in  amount  in  an 
inverse  ratio  to  the  square  of  the  distance  between  the  sun 
and  the  planet,  and  would  therefore  cause  acceleration  or 
retardation  of  velocity  according  as  the  planet  in  its  elliptic 
path  approached  or  receded  from  the  sun, — all  this  was  a 
most  brilliant  hypothesis,  alleging  no  un verifiable  agency, 
disposing  of  the  unexplained  residual  phenomena,  and 
making  the  Keplerian  order  of  conceptions  completely  con- 
gruous. According  to  the  subjective  method,  this  was  quite 
enough.  And  doubtless  if  Newton's  mind  had  been  con- 
structed like  Hegel's  he  would  at  once  have  announced  his 
discovery  on  the  strength  of  its  presumed  subjective  necessity, 
and  would  have  left  it  for  some  other  more  patient  inquirer  to 
verify  its  truth.  But  Newton,  rigorously  adhering  to  the 
objective  method,  saw  that  this  was  not  enough.  No  matter 
how  perfectly  congruous  the  subjective  order  of  conceptions 
may  be  in  itself,  it  must  be  confronted  with  the  observed 
order  of  phenomena  and  be  shown  to  be  congruous  with 
that.  According  to  the  hypothesis  the  moon  must  be 
deflected  on  the  average  fifteen  feet  each  minute  from  its 
natural  rectilinear  path.  But  Newton's  own  observations 
showed  that  this  is  not  the  case :  the  moon  is  deflected 
thirteen  feet  in  each  minute,  and  thus  was  revealed  a 
discrepancy  between  the  order  of  conceptions  and  the  order 
of  phenomena.  It  must  ever  be  regarded  as  a  truly  sublime 
illustration  of  the  exalted  scientific  character  of  Newton's 
intellect,  that  in  an  age  when  the  inexorable  requirements  of 
scientific  method  were  generally  so  little  understood,  he  laid 


112  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  :. 

aside  for  many  years  his  brilliant  and  plausible  conjecture, 
as  being  a  hypothesis  which  observation  refused  to  verify. 
It  was  thirteen  years  after  this  first  abortive  effort  had  been 
made,  that  Picard's  careful  measurement  of  an  arc  of  the  meri- 
dian revealed  the  fact  that  the  length  of  the  earth's  radius, 
and  consequently  the  distance  of  the  moon,  had  hitherto  been 
inaccurately  estimated.  Thus  Newton  was  enabled  to  resume 
his  calculations,  and  by  introducing  the  corrections  now 
rendered  necessary,  to  ascertain  that  the  amount  of  the 
moon's  deflection,  caused  by  the  earth's  attractive  force, 
should  be  on  the  average  thirteen  feet  per  minute  ;  as  observa- 
tion had  shown  to  be  the  case.  Thus,  by  the  patient  applica- 
tion of  the  objective  method,  the  hypothesis  of  gravitation 
was  verified,  and  became  an  expression  of  the  observed  order 
of  phenomena. 

I  have  dwelt  at  some  length  upon  this  concrete  example, 
because    it   furnishes    such    manifold    illustration    of    the 
difference  between  the  metaphysical  and  the  scientific  modes 
of  procedure.     When  rightly  considered,  it  will  also  enable 
us  to  estimate  at  their  proper  value  the  claims  of  Bacon  to 
be  regarded  as  the  chief  inaugurator  of  modern  philosophy, 
as  well  as  the  criticisms  made  upon  those  claims  by  Bacon's 
detractors.     We  frequently  hear  it  said,  on  the  one  hand, 
that  Bacon's   great   merit    consisted    in   overthrowing  the 
Deductive  Method  practised  by  the  ancients,  and  in  substitut- 
ing for  it  the  Inductive  Method,  upon  which  all  modern 
scientific  discoveries  have  been  made.     Now  such  assertions 
imply  a  total  misconception  of  the  true  state  of  the  case; 
and  perhaps  we  cannot  wonder  that  some  critics  believe  that^ 
in  overthrowing  them,  they  have  removed  Bacon  from  the 
high  position  which  he  has  hitherto  traditionally  occupied. 
But  this  is  a  misconception  as  great  as  the  other.     The  truth 
is,  Bacon's   admirers  have  advanced  in  his  behalf  claims 
which  should  never  have  been  made  ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  his  detractors,  in  showing  the  futility  of  these  claims, 


ch  v.]  THE  TWO  METHODS.  113 

have  not  really  succeeded  in  taking  away  one  jot  or  tittle  of 
his  rightful  fame.  In  point  of  fact  it  was  not  Bacon's  great 
merit,  but  his  great  deficiency,  that  he  held  in  comparatively 
slight  esteem  the  deductive  method.  This  method  is  as 
trustworthy  and  as  powerful  as  the  inductive,  provided  it 
starts  from  verified  premises,  and  ends  by  verifying  its 
conclusions.  Indeed  in  several  of  the  sciences  induction 
plays  a  quite  subordinate  part.  Mathematics,  mechanics  and 
astronomy  (so  far,  at  least,  as  relates  to  the  dynamics  of  the 
solar  system)  are  almost  purely  deductive  sciences,  and  in 
the  chief  problems  of  biology  and  political  economy  deduc- 
tion is  predominant.  It  was  chiefly  through  deduction  that 
Newton  reached  the  law  of  gravitation,  that  Harvey 
discovered  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  that  Goethe  arrived 
at  his  grand  generalizations  concerning  animal  and  vegetal 
morphology,  and  that  Adam  Smith  obtained  the  fundamental 
principles  of  political  economy,  These  facts  are  well  known 
to  Bacon's  adversaries,  who  remind  us  also  that,  unlike 
Descartes,  he  never  made  any  discoveries  himself,  and  who 
further  assert,  with  some  exaggeration,  that  he  never  even 
worked  out  a  scheme  of  induction  which  could  be  adopted 
and  utilized  by  subsequent  thinkers.  It  is  true  that  Bacon 
never  mastered  any  one  science,  as  Descartes  and  Leibnitz 
mastered  mathematics.  Knowing  little  of  mathematics  he 
underrated  the  deductive  method,  which  moreover  had  not 
yet  been  illustrated  by  the  splendid  triumphs  of  astronomy 
and  physiology,  and  which  to  his  mind  was  chiefly  exemplified 
in  what  seemed  to  him  the  barren  word-battles  of  the 
scholastic  metaphysicians.  It  is  also  true  that  Bacon  did 
not  construct  a  thorough  system  of  inductive  logic  whereby 
to  illustrate  his  method.  That  great  achievement  was 
reserved  for  Comte  and  Mill ;  and  indeed  would  have  been 
utterly  impossible  at  any  time  before  the  present  century, 
during  which  the  methods  of  the  two  chief  inductive  sciences, 
chemistry  and  molecular  physics,  have  first  been  practically 

VOL.  I.  I 


114  COSMIC  FIlILOSOrilY.  [pt.  i 

exemplified.  All  this  we  may  cheerfully  admit,  without 
feeling  called  upon  to  abate  our  veneration  for  Bacon  in  the 
least.  For  after  all  this  has  been  granted,  the  fact  still 
remains  that  Bacon  saw,  more  clearly  than  any  of  his  great 
contemporaries,  that  the  subjective  method  had  been 
definitely  weighed  in  the  balance  and  found  wanting,  and 
that  henceforth  Verification  must  be  insisted  on  as  the 
essential  prerequisite  for  every  trustworthy  conclusion.  This 
was  the  all-important  truth  which  Bacon  set  forth  again  and 
again,  impressing  it  upon  men's  minds  with  that  majestic 
eloquence  and  prodigious  fertility  of  illustration  which 
characterize  all  his  philosophical  writings.  Nor  was  he  blind 
to  the  inevitable  results  of  banishing  the  subjective  method. 
Bacon  saw  and  declared  that  ontological  inquiries,  as  not 
admitting  of  verification,  must  be  condemned  as  fruitless  ; 
and  he  was  the  first  to  form  that  grand  conception  of 
philosophy,  as  an  organic  whole  of  which  the  sciences  and 
scientific  methods  are  the  organs,  which  I  endeavoured  to 
describe  in  the  second  chapter  of  this  work. 

The  popular  misconception  of  the  nature  of  Bacon's 
achievements  rests  upon  a  not  unnatural  confusion  between 
the  subjective  and  the  deductive  methods.  The  subjective 
method  is  indeed  mainly  deductive,  but  that  is  not  the 
source  of  its  weakness.  It  is  not  in  reasoning  downward 
from  a  general  proposition  to  a  special  conclusion  that  the 
danger  lies.  The  danger  is  in  reasoning  from  an  unverified 
premise  to  a  conclusion  which  you  do  not  stop  to  verify. 
Here  we  come  iipon  the  weak  point  in  the  system  of 
Descartes.  A  mathematician  whose  genius  and  achieve- 
ments have  perhaps  never  been  equalled  save  by  Newton, 
Leibnitz,  and  Lap;range, — Descartes  was  not  likely  to  under- 
rate the  value  of  deduction ;  but  he  overlooked  the  necessity 
for  constant  verification.  Though  his  scientific  career  was 
far  more  brilliant  than  Bacon's — if,  indeed,  the  latter  can  be 
said  to  have  had  any  scientific  career — his  conception  of 


BH.  v.]  THE  TWO  METHODS.  115 

philosophy  was  far  less  defensible  than  Bacon's  conception. 
He  admitted  the  necessity  of  verification  in  the  so-called 
physical  sciences ;  but  between  physiology  and  psychology 
he  drew  an  arbitrary  line,  and  thought  that  in  the  so-called 
moral  sciences  which  lie  beyond  that  line,  verification  might 
safely  be  dispensed  with.  Here,  in  this  higher  region,  he 
said,  all  we  have  to  do  is  first  clearly  to  conceive  some 
premise,  and  then  to  reason  away  ad  libitum,  as  in  mathe- 
matics, never  fearing  that  the  order  of  conceptions  may  not 
correspond  with  the  order  of  phenomena.  And  this  view  of 
metaphysical  method  is  grounded  upon  the  psychological 
error,  that  in  our  transcendental  or  extra-sensible  conceptions 
of  Space,  Time,  Causality,  etc.,  we  possess  "  innate  ideas " 
endued  with  a  validity  quite  independent  of  experience,  so 
that  inferences  logically  deduced  from  such  "  innate  ideas  " 
can  afford  to  dispense  with  objective  verification.1  The 
results  of  these  incompatible  teachings  are  written  in  history. 
In  science  Descartes  has  been  the  forerunner  of  Euler, 
D'Alembert,  Lagrange,  Laplace,  Fresnel,  Leverrier,  and 
Helmholtz :  in  philosophy  he  has  been  the  forerunner  of 
Spinoza  and  Malebranche,  Schelling  and  Hegel. 

The  subjective  method,  as  laid  down  by  Descartes,  has 
been  carried  out  in  metaphysics  by  no  one  more  rigorously 
than  by  Spinoza,  the  most  inexorable  in  logical  consistency 
of  all  metaphysicians.  With  mathematical  nicety  Spinoza 
reasoned  out  a  complete  system  of  ontology,  in  which  the 
conclusions  are  so  inseparably  bound  up  with  the  postulates 
that  in  order  to  overthrow  them  it  is  necessary  to  begin  by 

-  *  The  truth  of  a  proposition  is  not  given  simply  by  showing  that  it  is  a 
lecessary  consequence  from  some  preceding  proposition  ;  that,  is  only  showing 
the  logical  operation  to  have  been  irreproachable  ;  and  an  operation  may  be 
accurately  performed  although  its  premises  are  inexact." — Lewes,  Problems 
of  Life  and  Mind,  vol.  i.  p.  381. — Of  course  Descartes,  as  a  mathematician 
familiar  with  the  process  of  reductio  ad  absurdum,  would  freely  admit  this. 
But  he  would  claim  that  there  are  sundry  premises  which,  as  being  framed 
a  priori  in  accordance  with  the  constitution  of  the  thinking  mind,  are  not 
amenable  to  the  jurisdiction  of  experience ;  and  that  hence  conclusions 
drawn  from  these  premises  need  be  submitted  only  to  a  logical  test. 

I  2 


I1G  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  I. 

invalidating  the  postulates.  Could  he  have  verified  his 
postulates,  lie  might  have  given  us  the  outlines  of  a  system 
of  absolute  truth,  thus  attaining  a  more  wondrous  eminence 
than  Galileo  or  Newton.  Unfortunately  his  postulates  ara 
just  the  kind  of  propositions  of  which  it  must  be  said  that 
they  can  neither  be  established  nor  refuted  :  the  data  for 
verifying  them  are  inaccessible,  and  must  ever  remain  so. 
His  system  rests  on  the  assumption  tliat  the  noumenal  cause 
is  like  the  phenomenal  effect  as  rendered  in  terms  of  con- 
sciousness, so  that  whatever  is  true  of  the  one  is  ipso  facto 
true  of  the  other.  Herein  lay  Spinoza's  error.  Here  is  the 
fundamental  distinction  between  the  deductive  method  as 
employed  in  mathematics,  and  as  employed  by  Spinoza  in 
metaphysics.  Mathematics  starts  from  simple  propositions 
concerning  quantitative  relations  of  number  and  extension, 
which  are  verified  once  for  all  by  a  direct  appeal  to  ex- 
pei'ience :  it  proceeds  from  the  known  to  the  unknown. 
Metaphysics,  as  treated  by  Spinoza,  starts  from  complex 
propositions  concerning  substance  per  se  and  causa  efficiens, 
which  have  not  been  and  cannot  be  verified.  It  ventures 
into  the  unknown  without  having  first  secured  a  basis  of 
operations  in  the  known.  So  that,  while  Hegel  was  un- 
doubtedly justified,  from  his  own  point  of  view,  in  declaring 
that  the  philosopher  must  either  be  a  Spinozist  or  nothing, 
our  refuge  from  the  dilemma  is  to  be  found  in  our  denial  of 
the  validity  of  that  subjective  method  by  the  aid  of  which 
Hegel  and  Spinoza  reached  their  conclusions.  The  method 
of  mathematical  deduction,  as  legitimately  applied  by  Newton 
to  verifiable  postulates,  led  to  a  discovery  prolific  in  perma- 
nent and  magnificent  results  ;  as  illegitimately  applied  by 
Spinoza  to  unverifiable  postulates,  it  led  to  an  isolated 
system  of  ontology,  barren  of  results,  accepted  in  its  inexor- 
able completeness  by  no  one, — yet  irrefutable,  save  by  the 
refutation  of  all  metaphysics. 

Spinoza's  ontological  conclusions,  being  at  once  obnoxious 


oh.  v.]  THE  TWO  METHODS.  117 

and  apparently  inevitable,  produced  a  crisis  in  philosophy, 
serving  to  raise  doubts  as  to  the  validity  of  the  subjective 
method,  and  to  call  in  question  the  truth  of  the  postulate 
that  whatever  is  in  the  Idea  is  also  in  the  Fact.  It  was 
thought  necessary  to  stop  and  reconsider  the  processes  by 
which  our  initial  conceptions  in  metaphysics  are  obtained; 
and  thus  for  more  than  a  century  pure  ontological  specula- 
tion w^s  subordinated  to  psychological  inquiries.  Thus 
arose  the  great  English  school,  whose  especial  function,  with 
regard  to  metaphysics,  has  been  to  demonstrate,  on  psycho- 
logical grounds,  the  relativity  of  all  knowledge.  This  move- 
ment, begun  by  Hobbes  and  continued  by  Locke  and 
Berkeley,  though  productive  of  many  brilliant  and  perma- 
nent scientific  results,  was  suicidal  so  far  as  metaphysics 
is  concerned,  for,  as  we  saw  in  the  preceding  chapter,  it 
has  ended  in  the  Scepticism  of  Hume,  and  the  Positivism  of 
Comte  and  Mill.  The  researches  of  Hobbes  on  the  laws 
of  association,  the  admirable  though  incomplete  analysis 
of  mental  operations  achieved  by  Locke,  and  Berkeley's 
explanation  of  the  phenomena  of  vision,  were  genuine 
additions  to  our  knowledge.  But,  as  has  frequently  been 
pointed  out,  they  were  obtained  only  through  the  employ- 
ment of  the  objective  method.  The  precepts  of  Bacon,  so 
thoroughly  in  harmony  with  the  cautious  and  practical 
temper  of  the  English  mind,  led  these  great  thinkers  to 
forsake  the  high  road  of  d  priori  ratiocination  for  the  surer 
though  more  tortuous  path  of  patient  observation ;  and 
so  long  as  they  adhered  to  psychology,  they  were  really 
scientific  inquirers,  as  much  as  if  they  had  been  physiologists 
or  chemists.  This  departure  from  metaphysics  was  carried 
still  farther  by  Hartley,  who,  working  the  deepest  vein  of 
the  Lockian  philosophy,  prepared  the  way  for  James  Mill  to 
bring  psychology  still  more  thoroughly  under  the  sway  of 
scientific  methods.  But  the  imperfect  condition  of  biology 
prevented  the   significance  of  this  movement  from  being 


118  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

detected  in  the  eighteenth  century.  The  labouiB  of  Hartley 
were  almost  entirely  overshadowed  by  the  superficial  sensa- 
tionalism of  Condillac  and  the  crude  materialism  of  Helve'tius 
and  Holbach.  The  distinctly  inferior  character  of  French 
psychological  speculation  since  the  death  of  Malebranche 
appears  strikingly  both  in  these  shallow  systems,  and  in  the 
spiritualistic  reaction  against  them  which  the  present  cen- 
tury has  seen  conducted  by  Laromiguiere  and  Victor  Cousin; 
a  philosophy  made  up  of  mere  tawdry  rhetoric,  quite  in- 
nocent of  observation  and  induction,1  resting  on  passionate 
appeals  to  the  testimony  of  "le  cceur  ;"  which  finally,  in  our 
own  times,  has  (it  would  appear)  harangued  itself  to  death. 
But  in  England  and  Germany  things  took  a  different  course. 
The  scepticism  of  Hume,  as  the  most  conspicuous  consequence 
of  Berkeley's  profound  analysis,  produced  a  second  crisis  in 
philosophy,  and  led  Kant  to  re-examine  the  psychological 
problem,  in  the  hope  of  arriving  at  some  positive  result.  We 
have  already  remarked  upon  the  inconsistency  in  Kant's  final 
conclusions  ;  demonstrating  as  he  did,  on  the  one  hand,  the 
relativity  of  knowledge,  yet  on  the  other  hand  maintaining 
that  in  necessary  truths  we  possess  a  kind  of  knowledge  not 
ultimately  referable  to  the  registration  of  experiences.  We 
have  now  to  note  how  Hegel  has  based  upon  this  doctrine 
of  a  priori  knowledge  an  explicit  and  uncompromising 
assertion  of  the  validity  of  the  subjective  method,  which 
by  reason  of  its  very  outspokenness  proclaims  itself  as 
the  reductio  ad  absurdum  of  metaphysics. 

Starting  from  the  postulate  that  deductions  from  &  priori 
premises  furnished  by  pure  reason  have  a  higher  validity 

1  "  Quiconque  entre  dans  l'etude  de  1'esprit  humain  par  la  voie  de  la  re- 
flexion, marche  droit  au  but.  Quiconque  ne  suit  d'autre  methode  que  la 
niethode  expetimentale  de  Bacon  et  de  Newton,  ne  court  pas  le  risque,  il  est 
vrai,  de  tomber  dans  les  hypotheses  extravagantes,  mais  se  condamne  k  des 
circuits  immenses  qui  aboutissent  a  des  resultats  mediocres." — Cousin, 
Philosophic  Ecossaise,  p.  307.  A  fair  sample  ot  M.  Cousin's  appreciation 
of  scientific  method.  The  discovery  of  the  law  of  gravitation,  I  suppose,  was 
sne  of  these  "  resultats  mediocres  "  1 


en.  v.]  THE  TWO  METHODS.  119 

Mian  inductions  from  premises  supplied  by  sensible  ex- 
perience, Hegel  speedily  arrives  at  an  ingenious  solution 
of  the  antinomies  which  baffle  the  ordinary  thinker  who 
seeks  to  frame  hypotheses  concerning  objective  reality.  The 
customary  rules  of  ratiocination,  based  upon  a  collation  of 
the  results  of  sensible  experience,  are  set  aside  with  a  high 
hand.  If  it  be  declared  that  we  can  and  do  cognize  objects 
apart  from  the  limitations  imposed  by  our  intelligence,  the 
apparent  contradiction  in  terms  is  no  obstacle  to  Hegel. 
There  is  a  contradiction  no  doubt,  but  what  of  that  ?  Truth 
has  been  vulgarly  supposed  to  consist  in  agreement.  Not  a 
bit  of  it :  it  consists  in  contradiction.  This  is  one  oi  the 
fundamental  postulates  of  the  Hegelian  logic.  The  Test  of 
Truth  is  not  that  "a  is  a,"  but  that  "A  is  not  A."  Every- 
thing which  is,  is  that  which  it  is  not.1  Non-existence 
exists,  because  it  is  a  thought ;  pure  Being  also,  in  the 
absence  of  determinative  conditions,  is  not  distinguishable 
from  Not-being ;  therefore  Non-existence  is  the  same  as 
Existence,  and  contraries  are  identical.  An  idea  is  not  a 
modification  of  the  subject ;  an  idea  is  the  object.  In 
coming  into  existence,  the  Idea  comes  into  non-existence  ; 
it  negatives  itself.  "But  the  process  does  not  stop  there. 
The  negation  itself  must  be  negatived.  By  this  negation  of 
its  negation,  the  Idea  returns  to  its  primitive  force.  But  it 
is  no  longer  the  same.  It  has  developed  all  that  it  con- 
tained. It  has  absorbed  its  contrary.  Thus  the  negation 
of  the  negation,  by  suppressing  the  negation,  at  the  same 

1  In  a  certain  sense  this  statement  is  profoundly  true.  Nothing  is  itself 
without  being  to  some  extent  something  else.  Or,  in  other  words,  it  is  im- 
possible sharply  to  demarcate  an  individual  entity  from  the  remainder  of 
existence,  and  to  cognize  it  in  individual  isolation  and  completeness.  For 
the  simplest  act  of  cognition  involves  a  lapse  of  time,  during  which  the 
individual  eutity  cognized  has  lost  certain  attributes  and  acquired  certain 
others,  and  lias  thus  become  different  from  itself.  This  is  the  obverse  of  the 
scientific  truth  that  nowhere  is  there  such  a  thing  as  Rest,  or  the  maintenance 
vf  a  given  status, — a  truth  which  lies  at  the  bottom  of  the  Doctrine  of  Evo- 
ition.  Hegel's  fault,  however,  is  that  he  does  not  ase  this  truth  scienti- 
fically, but  employs  it  as  a  formula  to  conjure  with. 


120  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY,  [pt.  i. 

time  preserves  it."  Tliis  side  of  the  room  is  the  other  side ; 
because,  if  you  turn  around,  this  is  that,  and  that  is  this; 
and  consequently  everything  is  its  own  opposite.  Every- 
thing is  thus  made  easy.  We  may  say,  for  instance,  that  matter 
is  infinitely  divisible,  because  it  follows  ipso  facto  that  it  is 
not  infinitely  divisible,  and  thus  the  Gordian  Knot  is  cut. 

In  the  eye  of  science,  as  in  the  eye  of  common- sense,  all 
this  is  supremely  ridiculous, — the  very  enthronement  of 
Unreason.  Yet  the  significance  of  the  whole  is  lost  if  we 
fail  to  remember  that  Hegel  was  not  a  fool  or  a  lunatic,  but 
was  unquestionably  one  of  the  clearest,  strongest,  and  most 
consecutive  reasoners  that  the  world  has  ever  seen.  Much 
has  been  said  of  the  unintelligibleness  of  Hegel,1  and  many 
a  witticism  has  been  made  at  his  expense.  But  the  unintel- 
ligibleness of  Hegel  does  not  result  from  indistinctness  of 
thought  or  slovenliness  of  expression.  On  the  contrary,  it 
seems  to  me  that  his  thoughts — or  rather,  perhaps,  the 
symbols  of  his  thoughts — are  very  distinct,  and  that  his 
style  of  expression  is  remarkably  simple,  clear,  and  direct. 
When  by  chance  he  treats  of  sublunary  topics,  his  style  is 
often  as  pithy  and  lucid  as  M.  Taine's.  And  had  the  con- 
tents of  his  thinking  consisted  of  propositions  formed  from 
the  colligation  of  sensible  experiences,  instead  of  propositions 
built  up  of  empty  verbal  symbols,  he  would  no  doubt  have 
taken  rank  among  the  greatest  of  the  teachers  of  mankind. 
The  world-wide  difference  between  Hegel  and  Mr.  Spencer,  for 
example,  does  not  consist  chiefly  in  the  fact  that  the  latter  is 
a  clearer,  more  patient,  and  more  logical  reasoner  ;  it  consists 
chiefly  in  the  fact  that  the  symbols  with  which  Mr.  Spencer 
does  his  thinking  are  translateable  in  terms  of  sensible 
experience,  while  the  symbols  employed  by  Hegel  are  not 

1  The  stoiy  is  current  that  on  being  asked  to  explain  some  difficult  passage 
written  years  before,  the  great  metaphysician  gave  it  up  in  despair,  saying  : 
"  When  I  wrote  that  passage,  there  were  two  who  understood  it, — God  aud 
myself.  Now,  alas,  God  alone  understands  it  1  "  A  myth,  no  doubt,  but 
erudely  characteristic,  like  most  myths. 


en.  v.]  THE  TWO  METHODS.  121 

thus  translateable.  The  difference  is,  in  the  main,  a  dif- 
ference of  method.  Indeed,  when  a  man  of  Hegel's  vast 
ability  gives  to  the  world,  as  the  result  of  a  whole  life's 
arduous  toil,  such  a  system  as  the  logic  of  contradictories 
above  described,  it  is  evident  that  there  must  be  something 
incurably  vicious  in  the  method  upon  which  he  has  pro- 
ceeded. Yet  that  method  is  the  subjective  method  in  its 
absolute  purity.  Starting  with  the  assumption  that  what- 
ever is  in  the  idea  is  in  the  fact,  it  makes  but  a  short  step  to 
the  assumption  that  whatever  is  in  the  word  is  in  the  fact. 
It  mistakes  words  for  ideas,  and  ideas  for  facts.  Hobbes 
has  somewhere  said  that  "  words  are  the  counters  of  wise 
men,  but  the  money  of  fools."  They  are  certainly  the  money 
of  Hegelism.  That  philosophy  is  built  up  of  propositions 
which  are  verbally  faultless,  but  which  correspond  to  no 
reality,  which  are  in  the  likeness  of  nothing  existing  or,  in 
the  true  sense  of  the  word,  conceivable,  in  either  the  heavens 
above,  or  the  earth  beneath,  or  the  waters  under  the  earth. 
The  contempt  of  Hegel  for  those  deluded  creatures,  like 
Newton,  who  have  spent  their  time  in  investigating  facts,  is 
both  amusing  and  instructive.  Far  be  it  from  Hegel's  logic 
that  it  should  stoop  to  look  at  facts.  It  makes  a  statement 
which  is  verbally  perfect,  and  if  the  facts  do  not  confirm  it, 
so  much  the  worse  for  the  facts.  Goethe,  in  one  of  his  con- 
versations with  Eckermann,  tells  a  pithy  story  about  the 
founding  of  St.  Petersburg.  The  Czar  wished  it  to  be  situated 
on  the  low  ground  at  the  mouth  of  the  Neva,  so  that  it 
might  resemble  the  Amsterdam  where  he  had  lived  in  his 
youth.  An  old  sailor  remonstrated,  telling  him  that  a  town 
in  that  locality  would  be  troubled  by  the  frequent  over- 
flowing of  the  river;  and  pointed  to  an  ancient  tree  upon 
which  were  marked  the  various  heights  to  which  the  water 
had  in  past  times  ascended.  But  Feter  refused  to  believe 
the  testimony;  the  tree  was  cut  down,  that  its  unwelcome 
evidence  might  be  suppressed,  and  the  work  of  building 


1S2  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  i 

went  on.  Tins  was  what  Hegelism  would  be  if  carried  out 
practically  and  transferred  from  the  world  of  supra-sensibles 
to  the  world  of  phenomena.  When  a  fact  is  unwelcome, 
just  take  the  principle  of  contradiction,  and  cut  it  down. 
Hegel  will  not  hear  of  verification  ;  he  looks  with  unutter- 
able scorn  upon  such  men  as  Bacon  for  insisting  upon  the 
necessity  of  it.  And  we  need  not  therefore  be  surprised 
when  we  find  him  proclaiming  the  philosophic  superiority 
of  the  Ptolemaic  astronomy  over  the  Copernican,  for  the 
subjective  reason  that  it  consorts  better  with  the  dignity  of 
man  that  he  should  occupy  the  central  point  of  the  universe  ! 
This  opens  to  us  a  new  point  of  view.  Hegel  is  vir- 
tually a  pre-Copernican.  For  him  modern  science  and 
its  methods  are  practically  non-existent.  His  philosophy 
was  born  too  late.  It  belongs  to  the  twelfth  century 
rather  than  to  the  nineteenth.  He  is  a  schoolman  reared 
out  of  season.  Here,  I  believe,  we  have  the  key  to  Hegel's 
position. 

The  realistic  tendency — the  disposition  to  mistake  words 
for  things — is  a  vice  inherent  in  all  ordinary  thinking.  It  is 
a  vice  from  which  every  thinker  who  would  arrive  at  truth 
must  begin  by  freeing  himself.  In  all  ages,  men  have  fought 
over  words,  without  waiting  to  know  what  the  words  really 
signified.  Even  great  thinkers  do  not  always  escape  the 
temptation.  Mr.  Mill,  for  example,  speaks  of  Caesar's  "  over- 
throwing a  free  government,"  as  if  Caesar  had  been  a  con- 
temporary of  Pitt.  He  reasons  solely  on  the  strength  of  the 
word  "free,"  forgetting  that  the  "free  government"  over- 
thrown by  Caesar  was  in  reality  a  detestable  mixture  of 
despotism  and  anarchy.  Words  indeed  are  the  money  of  all 
of  us,  until  we  learn,  by  severe  discipline,  to  regard  them 
merely  as  counters.  But  it  was  in  the  Middle  Ages  that 
realism  was  most  uncurbed.  In  those  days  men  maintained, 
with  sober  faces,  that  because  we  talk  about  Man  in  the 
abstract,  there  is  an  actually   existing  thing  called   Man, 


en.  v.]  THE  TWO  METHODS.  123 

distinct  alike  from  all  individual  men  and  from  all  men 
taken  collectively.  This  and  that  man  exist;  all  men  exist ; 
and  Man  exists  likewise, — such  was  one  of  the  fundamental 
theorems  of  the  realistic  philosophy.1  Scholasticism  was  a 
long  and  hard-fought  dialectic  battle,  in  the  course  of  which 
this  realism,  as  an  avowed  system,  was  at  last  utterly  routed. 
And  the  great  result  of  scholasticism  was  the  purification  of 
Latin  philosophic  terminology  from  its  realistic  impl-^ntions. 
By  that  long  contest,  which  on  a  superficial  view  seems  so 
barren  of  result,  the  English  as  well  as  the  French,  and  all 
languages  which  derive  their  philosophic  nomenclature  from 
the  Latin,  have  been  incalculably  benefited.  There  was  no 
likelihood  of  a  Hegel  in  any  language  which  had  passed 
through  the  scholastic  furnace.  But  German  had  never  passed 
through  such  an  ordeal.  Its  philosophic  terms  had  never 
been  reduced  to  their  real  value.  As  Mr.  Lewes  very 
happily  observes,  it  did  not  recognize  the  old  ignis  fatuus  in 
its  new  Irrlicht.  Nowhere  but  in  Germany  would  a  Hegel 
have  been  possible  in  the  nineteenth  century.  And  that  the 
peculiarities  of  the  German  language  are  to  a  great  extent  re- 
sponsible for  his  aberrations,  has  been  acknowledged  by  later 
German  critics.  The  testimony  of  Biichner,  which  on  most 
vital  points  of  philosophy  I  should  be  very  slow  to  cite,  is 
quite  admissible  here  : — "  The  playing  with  high-sounding  but 
thoroughly  empty  words  has  been  the  fatal  vice  of  German 
philosophy.  .  .  .  We  have  often  with  justice  been  advised 
to  translate  our  philosophic  treatises  into  a  foreign  tongue, 
in  order  to  rid  them  of  their  unintelligible  verbiage.  But 
tssuredly  few  of  them  could  bear  the  test."     A  similar  com- 

1  "  In  the  great  mediaeval  doctrine  of  transubstantiation,  the  schoolman 
would  have  been  the  first  to  admit  that  no  chemical  analysis  would  detect 
auy  change  in  the  consecrated  elements.  But  he  asserted  that  the  indi- 
viduality of  the  bread  (its  breadness)  was  exchanged  for  the  individuality  of 
Christ  (his  humano-divinity)." —  Pearson,  Early  and  Middle  Ages  oj 
England,  vol.  i.  p.  613.  An  excellent  illustration  of  the  realistic  method. 
It  was  a  noumenal,  not  a  phenomenal  change  :  the  latter  would  have  been 
"  transaccidentation. " 


184  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  l. 

plaint,  with  especial  reference  to  Hegel,  has  been  made  by 
Schopenhauer.1 

Again,  let  us  not  fail  to  observe  that  in  characterizing 
Hegel's  logic  of  contradictories  as  repugnant  to  common- 
sense,  we  urge  an  objection  which,  however  valid  it  may 
seem  to  us,  would  to  one  in  Hegel's  position  have  no  weight 
whatever.  For  Hegel's  fundamental  postulate  is  that  deduc- 
tions from  d  priori  premises  furnished  by  pure  reason  have 
an  incomparably  higher  validity  than  inductions  from  pre- 
mises supplied  by  sensible  experiences ;  and  consequently, 
while  we  are  seeking  to  found  philosophy  in  common-sense 
— or  in  science,  which  is  simply  common-sense  rectified, 
extended,  and  methodized, — Hegel,  on  the  other  hand,  enter- 
tains no  such  purpose.  Philosophy,  with  him,  lies  quite  out 
of  the  range  of  common-sense, — which  is  merely  the  organi- 
zation of  sensible  experiences, — and  if  there  be  conflict 
between  the  deliverances  of  the  two,  it  is  common-sense 
that  must  go  to  the  wall.  With  this  perfectly  logical, 
though  practically  absurd,  conclusion,  we  may  fitly  compare 
Schelling's  declaration  that  philosophic  truth  is  to  be 
attained  only  through  the  exercise  of  a  faculty  superior  to 
reason ;  which  faculty  Schelling  called  "  Intellectual  Intui- 
tion." This  "  was  not  supposed  to  be  a  faculty  common  to 
all  men ;  on  the  contrary,  it  was  held  as  the  endowment 
only  of  a  few  of  the  privileged  :  it  was  the  faculty  for  philo- 
sophizing. Schelling  expresses  his  disdain  for  those  who 
talk  about  not  comprehending  the  highest  truths  of  philo- 
sophy. '  Eeally,'  he  exclaims,  '  one  sees  not  wherefore 
Philosophy  should  pay  any  attention  whatever  to  Incapacity. 
It  is  better  rather  that  we  should  isolate  Philosophy  from 
all   the   ordinary   routes,   and   keep   it   so    separated   from 

1  Schopenhauer,  indeed,  quite  loses  his  patience  over  Hegel's  verbal  leger- 
demain, and  calls  him  a  "geisrlosen,  unwissenden,  Unsinn  schmierenden,  die 
Kopfe  durch  beispiellos  hohlen  Wortkram  von  Grund  aus  und  auf  imraer  des- 
organisireuden  Phi'osopliaster."  (')  I  quote  from  memory,  and  cannot  HOW 
recover  the  passage  where  this  outbi  eak  occurs. 


BS.  r.j  THE  TWO  METHODS.  125 

ordinary  knowledge  that  none  of  these  routes  should  lead  to 
it.  The  highest  truths  of  science  (!)  cannot  be  proved,  they 
must  be  apprehended  ;  for  those  who  cannot  apprehend  them 
there  is  nothing  but  pity  ;  argument  is  useless.'"1  Here  in 
the  explicit  rejection  of  the  fundamental  conception  of 
Cosmic  Philosophy  as  a  further  organization  of  science, 
which  is  itself  a  further  organization  of  common  knowledge, 
we  see  at  the  same  time  the  most  explicit  adoption  of  the 
subjective  method.  And  it  is  worthy  of  note  that,  in  this 
emphatic  declaration,  modern  metaphysics  ends  in  precisely 
the  fame  red.untio  ad  absurdum  in  which  ancient  metaphysics 
met  its  doom.  The  incompetence  of  ordinary  reason  to 
construct  a  science  of  ontology  having  been  fully  demon- 
strated, the  task  is  transferred,  by  Schelling  as  by  Proklos, 
to  a  "  divine  light,"  which  is  supposed  to  irradiate  the  souls 
of  a  few  privileged  teachers.  Obviously  this  is  equivalent 
to  the  confession  that,  as  a  process  of  rational  investigation, 
the  subjective  method  has  been  definitely  tried  in  the  balance 
and  found  wanting.  For  to  recur  to  a  "  divine  light,"  or  to 
seek  refuge  in  the  identity  of  contradictories,  is  only  to  show 
the  more  convincingly  that  human  thought  cannot,  save  by 
a  mere  jugglery  of  words,  even  appear  to  escape  from  the 
conditions  under  which  alone  is  valid  thinking  possible. 

We  have  now  sufficiently  illustrated,  by  concrete  examples, 
the  difference  between  the  subjective  and  objective  methods, 
which  is  the  practical  difference  between  metaphysics  and 
science.  We  are  accordingly  in  a  position  to  consider,  some- 
what more  closely  than  we  have  hitherto  done,  the  essential 
point  of  difference  between  the  scientific  mode  of  philo- 
sophizing which  we  accept  and  the  metaphysical  mode  of 
philosophizing  which  we  reject.  It  is  well  that,  in  our  polemic 
against  metaphysics,  there  should  be  no  room  left  for  am- 
biguity or  misconception.  It  has  already  been  sufficiently 
explained  that  in  doing  away  with  metaphysics  we  do  not  set 
*  Lewes,  History  of  Philosophy,  3rd  edit.  vol.  ii.  p.  522. 


126  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [it.  l 

aside  philosophy,  but  place  it  on  a  firmer  foundation  than 
before.  And  while  it  is  thus  apparent  that  we  have  not 
identified  metaphysics  with  philosophy,  it  is  also  evident  that 
we  have  by  no  means  fallen  into  the  vulgar  error  of  identi- 
fying it  with  psychology,  or  the  inquiry  into  the  phenomena 
of  consciousness,  which  is  as  much  a  science  as  chemistry  or 
physiology.  How,  then,  shall  we  precisely  define  the  meta- 
physics against  which  we  have,  during  these  five  chapters 
and  from  various  points  of  attack,  been  waging  war? 

To  arrive  at  the  true  meaning  of  "  Metaphysics,"  we  can 
hardly  do  better  than  go  back  to  the  historical  origin  of  the 
word.  Aristotle  wrote  a  treatise  on  Physics,  and  also  an 
elaborate  dissertation  upon  sundry  transcendental  topics,  which 
being  placed  immediately  after  the  other  in  his  collected 
works,  received  the  title  of  ra  /xera  to.  (pva-i/cd,  or  "  Things- 
which-come-after-the-Physics."  It  was  in  this  way  that  the 
term  came  into  use  ;  and  it  needs  but  little  playing  with 
the  elastic  significance  of  the  preposition,  to  arrive  at  a 
thoroughly  just  idea  of  the  meaning  of  the  expression.  Meta- 
physics, thus  considered,  means  a  set  of  inquiries  which  lie 
beyond  the  bounds  of  Physics.  Physics, — in  the  widest  sense 
of  the  word, — dealing  solely  with  phenomena  in  their  rela- 
tions of  coexistence  and  succession,  metaphysics  deals  with 
something  lying  beyond  the  phenomena  A  physical  explana- 
tion is  content  with  analyzing  phenomena  as  it  finds  them ;  a 
metaphysical  explanation  is  not  content  until  it  has  added 
something  not  given  in  the  phenomena.  Metaphysics,  there- 
fore, is  not  confined  to  psychology,  but  may  deal  with  any 
subject,  and  has  in  fact  obtruded  its  explanations  upon  most 
subjects.  When  mercury  was  seen  to  rise  in  a  tube,  in  appa- 
rent contradiction  to  the  general  phenomena  of  gravity,  meta- 
physics said  that  it  was  because  "Nature  abhorred  a  vacuum." 
Physics,  without  going  beyond  the  facts  given  in  the  case, 
explained  it  by  a  reference  to  the  pressure  of  the  atmosphere 
upon  the  mercury  without  the  tube.     So  the  phenomena  of 


ch.  v.J  THE  TWO  METHODS.  127 

causation  were  metaphysically  explained  "by  the  supposition 
of  a  specific  hidden  power  in  the  cause,  which  constrains 
the  effect  to  follow.  Hume  denied  the  existence  of  any  such 
specific  hidden  power,  and  his  denial  was  also  metaphysical, 
because  neither  the  presence  nor  the  absence  of  such  a 
specific  power  is  a  necessary  inference  from  the  phenomena. 
If  we  would  keep  clear  of  metaphysics,  we  must  in  such  a 
case  neither  affirm  nor  deny  concerning  a  subject  which  lies 
utterly  beyond  our  reach.  Physics  knows  nothing  of  causa- 
tion except  that  it  is  the  invariable  and  unconditional  sequence 
of  one  event  upon  another:  whether  the  one  event,  in  a 
metaphysical  sense,  constrains  the  other  to  follow  it  or  not 
we  cannot  tell.  Physics  knows  nothing  of  such  constraint 
— neither  that  it  exists,  nor  that  it  does  not  exist. 

For  the  moment  I  have,  somewhat  too  freely,  used  the 
word  "physics"  as  synonymous  with  "science  "  ;  for  I  have 
aimed  at  bringing  out  the  fundamental  distinction  between 
metaphysics  and  science, —  which  is  this  : — A  scientific  ex- 
planation is  a  hypothesis  which  admits  of  verification, — it  can  he 
either  proved  or  disproved;  while  a  metaphysical  explanation  is 
a  hypothesis  which  docs  not  admit  of  verification, — it  can  neither 
he  proved  nor  disproved.  Newton's  hypothesis  of  gravitation, 
to  account  for  the  planetary  motions,  was  strictly  scientific ; 
and  so  was  Descartes'  hypothesis  of  vortices,  to  account  for 
the  same  phenomena.  The  former  admitted  of  proof,  and 
the  latter  admitted  of  disproof.  But  Stahl'a  hypothesis  of  a 
Vital  Principle,  to  account  for  the  phenomena  of  life,  was 
strictly  metaphysical.  Whether  it  is  true  or  not,  we  can 
never  know.  Push  our  researches  as  far  as  we  may,  we  can 
know  life  only  as  the  assemblage  of  certain  phenomena, 
displaying  the  activity  of  certain  forces.  Whether  in  addition 
to  this  there  is  a  Vital  Principle  or  not,  no  amount  of  research 
can  ever  tell  us.     Science  has  simply  nothing  to  do  with  it. 

Thus  we  see  that  the  fundamental  difference  between 
metaphysics   and    science   is    the   difference    between    the 


128  COSMIC  miLOSOPIIY.  [pt.  L 

subjective  and  the  objective  methods.  That  the  difference 
in  method  is  more  fundamental  than  the  difference  in  the 
character  of  the  objects  which  are  studied,  is  shown  by  the 
fact  that  "  a  theory  may  be  transferred  from  metaphysics  to 
science,  or  from  science  to  metaphysics,  simply  by  the  addition 
or  the  withdrawal  of  its  verifiable,  element."  Thus,  as  Mr. 
Lewes  observes,  "the  law  of  universal  attraction  becomes 
pure  metaphysics  if  we  withdraw  from  it  the  verifiable 
specification  of  its  mode  of  operation.  Withdraw  the  formula, 
'  inversely  as  the  square  of  the  distance  and  directly  as  the 
mass,'  and  Attraction  is  left  standing — a  mere  'occult  quality.' 
Indeed  the  Cartesians  reproached  it  with  being  such  an  occult 
quality,  and  stigmatized  it  as  a  revival  of  Aristotelianism. 
On  the  other  hand,  add  this  verifiable  formula  to  the  'inherent 
virtue '  of  the  old  metaphysicists,  and  the  result  is  a  strictly 
scientific  proposition."  1 

Here  also  is  revealed  the  inherent  weakness  of  meta- 
physics: it  is  incapable  of  making  discoveries.  For  veri- 
fication is  absolutely  essential  to  discovery.  No  theorem 
can  be  accepted  as  a  discovery  until  it  has  been  verified, 
and  the  theorems  of  metaphysics  do  not  admit  of  verification. 
Hence  the  utter  barrenness  of  the  metaphysical  method. 
From  Thales  downwards — according  to  the  current  reproach 
— philosophers  have  been  disputing  over  the  first  principles 
of  their  subject,  and  are  now  no  nearer  to  a  solution  than 
when  they  began  to  dispute.  It  is  not,  however,  as  is  some- 
times superficially  supposed,  because  metaphysicians  disagree, 
that  their  method  must  be  rejected  by  any  philosophy  which 
would  found  itself  upon  science ;  but  it  is  because  their 
disagreement  can  never  end  in  agreement,—  can  never  lead 
to  knowledge.  Since  there  will  always  be  room  for  difference 
of  opinion  on  many  subjects,  until  the  human  mind  shall 
have  explained  and  classified  all  the  phenomena  of  nature, 
it  cannot  be  demanded  of  any  system  of  philosophy  that  it 
1  Lewes,  Aristotle,  p.  84. 


on.  v.]  TEE  TWO  METHODS.  129 

shall  admit  only  such  conclusions  as  are  not  open  to  con- 
troversy.     Such   a    requirement    would    virtually   prohibit 
philosophy  altogether.     The  difference  between  a  scientific 
and  a  metaphysical  theorem  is  not  that  the  former  is  not  open 
to  controversy,  but  that  it  admits  of  verification ;   it  can, 
either  now  or  at  some  future  time,  be  proved  to  be  either 
true  or  false.     All  such  theorems  may  be  admitted  by  a 
scientific  philosophy.     Until   they   have   been   verified,  we 
may  take  account  of  them  provisionally,  as  legitimate  hypo- 
theses :  after  they  have  been  put  to  a  crucial  test,  we  may 
either  incorporate  them  with  our  philosophy  or   definitely 
abandon  them.    Our  philosophy,  therefore,  like  all  the  sciences 
whence  it  obtains  the  general  truths  which  it  seeks  to  organize 
into  a  body  of  universal  truth,  may  admit  any  number  of 
subjects  of  dispute ;  but  it  can  admit  no  question  as  a  fit 
subject  of  dispute,  which,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  can 
never  be  settled.     It  is  perfectly  in  keeping,  for  example,  for 
two  upholders  of  the  Doctrine  of  Evolution,  as  well  as  for 
two  scientific  specialists  committed  to  no  general  doctrine, 
to  hold  opposite  views  concerning  the  hypothesis  of  sponta- 
neous generation.     Since  this  is  strictly  a  scientific  hypothesis, 
dealing  solely  with  phenomena,  and  invoking  no  unknowable 
agencies;-  and   since   there  is  no  reason,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  why  it  should  not  sooner  or  later  be  established  or 
overthrown  by  some  crucial  experiment ;    there  is  nothing 
anomalous   in   the   fact   of    two  such  thoroughly  scientific 
evolutionists   as    Prof.    Huxley    and    Dr.    Bastian    holding 
opposite   opinions  as  to  its   merits.      But  it  would  not  be 
in  keeping  for  two  scientific  philosophers  to  wrangle  over 
Leibnitz's  doctrine  of  Pre-established  Harmouy,  because  that 
is  a  hypothesis  which  can   never  be   proved  or   ciisprcved. 
The  data   necessary  for  its   verification  do   not   exist,  and 
therefore  no  system  of  philosophy,  which  would  keep  clear 
of  metaphysics,  can  recognize  it  as  a  legitimate  subject  for 
investigation.     Again,  in  the  eighteenth  century  there  were 
vol.  L  K 


130  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

two  rival  theories  of  light.  According  to  the  theory  of 
Newton,  a  ray  of  light  is  a  linear  series  of  material  cor- 
puscles, darted  from  the  luminous  object.  According  to  the 
theory  of  Huyghens,  a  ray  of  light  is  a  system  of  molecular 
undulations  which  move  outward  in  ever-increasing  con- 
centric shells  whose  normals  are  radial,  and  which  are  set 
in  motion  by  undulations  among  the  molecules  of  the  lumi- 
nous object.  At  the  beginning  of  the  present  century  the 
corpuscular  theory  was  submitted  to  a  set  of  crucial  investiga- 
tions which  overthrew  it;  and  more  recently  the  undulatory 
theory  has  been  submitted  to  a  course  of  crucial  investigation 
which  has  finally  established  it.  Both  these  theories  were 
scientific  in  conception,  and  previous  to  the  researches  of 
Young  and  Fresnel  a  scientific  philosopher  might  have  con- 
sistently espoused  either.  Such  are  the  controversies  of 
science,  which  sooner  or  later  have  always  led,  and  will 
always  lead,  to  agreement  and  to  knowledge.  Far  different 
is  it  with  the  disputes  of  metaphysics,  which — conducted 
upon  the  subjective  method,  and  dealing  with  unverifiable 
hypotheses — have  never  led,  and  can  never  lead,  to  anything 
but  an  endless  renewal  of  dispute,  in  scecula  sceculorum. 

In  this  condemnation  of  the  subjective  method,  the  Cosmic 
Philosophy  here  expounded  is  entirely  in  harmony  with  the 
Positive  Philosophy,  as  set  forth  in  Comte's  first  great  work, 
and  as  held  by  M.  Littre"  and  Mr.  Mill.  Indeed  there  is 
probably  nothing  in  the  present  chapter  which  might  not  be 
cited  by  the  Positivist  in  confirmation  of  his  opinions  as  to 
the  limits  of  philosophical  inquiry.  The  Positive  Philosophy 
is  based  upon  the  assertion  of  the  relativity  of  all  knowledge ; 
and,  however  fatally  inadequate  may  have  been  its  psycholo- 
gical interpretation  of  that  doctrine,  there  is  no  ground  for 
accusing  it — as  represented  by  Mr.  Mill  and  M.  Littre — of 
inconsistency  in  its  adherence  to  the  scientific  method  for 
which  the  doctrine  of  relativity  supplies  the  justification. 
Since  Bacon's  time  there  have  been  few  thinkers  who  have 


ch.  v.]  TEE  TWO  METHODS.  131 

insisted  more  strenuously  than  Comte  upon  the  necessity  of 
distinguishing  between  legitimate  and  illegitimate  hypotheses, 
or  who  have  more  clearly  prescribed  the  conditions  under 
which  alone  can  any  given  hypothesis  be  regarded  as  legiti- 
mate. Unfortunately,  by  a  strange  and  ironical  fate,  the 
writer  who  contributed  so  much  toward  the  establishment  of 
sound  methods  of  philosophizing,  lived  to  become  a  proficient 
in  the  subjective  method,  a  pitiless  scorner  of  crucial  experi- 
ments, and  a  weaver  of  vagaries  which  might  well  be  matched 
with  those  above  cited  from  Plato  and  Hegel.  The  historical 
importance  of  this  phenomenon  is  great  enough  to  justify  us 
in  treating  it  at  some  length. 

Though  in  Comte's  earlier  works  a  somewhat  obtuse  sense 
of  the  requirements  of  verification  is  now  and  then  to  be 
noticed  ;  and  though  there  is  a  tendency,  which  visibly  in- 
creases toward  the  end  of  the  "  Philosophic  Positive,"  to  sub- 
stitute intensely  dogmatic  ex  cathedra  dicta  in  the  place  of 
arguments ;  yet  the  necessity  for  strict  obedience  to  the 
objective  method  is  nowhere  explicitly  denied.  It  is  in- 
sisted, with  entire  justice,  that  every  hypothesis  which  does 
not  admit  of  verification  should  be  remorselessly  discarded 
from  philosophy;  and  that  even  a  verifiable  hypothesis 
should  never  be  incorporated  as  a  part  of  philosophy  or 
science  until  it  has  been  actually  verified.  Far  different  is 
the  attitude  taken  by  Comte  in  his  later  works,  when  he  is 
attempting  to  reconstruct  society.  In  the  "  Politique  Posi- 
tive "  he  begins  by  endeavouring  to  reinstate  the  subjective 
method ;  deluding  himself,  by  a  play  upon  words,  into  the 
belief  that  that  method  can  be  so  reformed  as  to  become 
available  in  the  search  for  positive  truths.  "  The  subjective 
method,"  he  tells  us,  "  possesses  striking  advantages  which 
can  alone  compensate  for  the  inconveniences  of  the  objective 
method."  This  unhappy  sentence  is  of  itself  enough  to  show 
how  far  the  writer  had  strayed  from  positive  grounds.  Here 
we  see  the  necessity  for  constant  verification  characterized 

K  2 


in  cosmic  puiLosornv.  [pt.i 

as  an  "  inconvenience,"  and  the  liberty  to  string  together  pre- 
mises and  conclusions  without  ever  stopping  to  test  their 
conformity  to  facts  is  called  a  "  striking  advanl  age."  Nothing 
could  be  more  thoroughly  metaphysical  in  temper.  The  "in- 
convenience "  of  the  objective  method  is  the  inconvenience 
of  being  often  obliged  to  stop  and  confess  our  ignorance  of 
many  things  we  should  like  to  know,  our  lack  of  many  data 
we  should  be  glad  to  possess.  The  "  striking  advantage  "  of 
the  subjective  method  is  no  other  than  the  advantage  en- 
joyed by  the  metaphysician  of  being  permitted  to  persuade 
himself  that  he  has  arrived  at  complete  knowledge  because 
he  has  never  stopped  to  confront  the  order  of  his  conceptions 
with  the  order  of  phenomena.  But  let  us  continue  with 
Comte:  "Our  logical  system  can  be  rendered  complete  and 
durable  only  by  the  intimate  union  of  the  two  methods.  His- 
tory does  not  authorize  us  to  regard  them  as  radically  irre- 
concilable, provided  that  both  are  systematically  regenerated 
in  accordance  with  their  common  function,  intellectual  and 
social.  To  yield  to  theology  the  exclusive  privilege  of  using 
the  subjective  method  is  as  unnecessary  as  to  see  in  theology 
the  only  legitimate  basis  of  religious  feeling.  If  sociology 
may  possess  the  latter,  it  may  also  possess  the  former,  as  the 
two  are  intimately  connected.  To  this  end  it  is  enough  that 
the  subjective  method,  renouncing  the  vain  search  into  effi- 
cient and  final  causes,  should  henceforth,  like  the  objective 
method,  be  employed  solely  in  the  discovery  of  natural  laws, 
whereby  our  social  condition  may  be  ameliorated."  1 

I  do  not  know  where  one  could  find  a  passage,  in  the 
literature  of  modern  philosophy,  more  lamentably  confused 
in  its  ideas  than  this.  The  subjective  method  says  that 
verification  is  not  necessary;  the  objective  method  says 
that  verification  is  necessary ;  and  yet  we  are  told  that  the 
two  are  not  "  radically  irreconcilable ! "  It  is  proposed  to 
"  regenerate  "  the  subjective  method :  yet  there  is  no  way  of 

1  Politique  Positive,  torn.  L  p.  455. 


ch.  v.]  THE  TWO  METHODS.  133 

regenerating  it  save  by  forcing  it  to  verify  its  premises  and 
conclusions;  and  when  this  is  done,  it  ceases  to  be  the  sub- 
jective and  becomes  the  objective  method.    But  Comte  thinks 
this  is  not  necessary;  the  subjective  method  may  be  used 
provided  it  be  employed  only  upon  scientific  questions,  only 
in  ascertaining  the  laws  of  phenomena.     That  is  to  say,  as 
long  as  you  confine  yourself  to  scientific  questions,  and  leave 
theology  and   metaphysics   alone,   you   may   imagine   some 
plausible  hypothesis  and  then  reason  away  until  you  have 
worked   out  a  whole   theory  of  natural  phenomena,  never 
stopping  to  observe  or   experiment,   but  dogmatically  pro- 
claiming your  conclusions  as  infallible  because  they  seem  to 
flow  logically  from  the  premises !     Can  it  be  that  we  are 
here  listening  to  the  man  who  spent  one  half  of  his  life  in 
investigating  the  history  of  science, — the  man  whose  labours 
did  so  much  toward  renovating  inductive  logic  ?     The  whole 
history  of  science  proclaims  the  utter  absurdity  of  the  posi- 
tion taken  by  Comte.     The  subjective  method  has  been  em- 
ployed, from  the  earliest  times,  upon  purely  scientific  ques- 
tions which  took  no  note  of  causes,  efficient  or  final ;  and  its 
eternal  impotence  is  illustrated  upon  every  page  of  the  annals 
of  scientific  error.     In  molar  physics,  it  led  to  the  doctrine 
that  all  motion  is  naturally  circular ;  in  astronomy  it  per- 
suaded men  that  the  sun  and  planets  move  in  circular  orbits 
about  the   central  earth;   in  chemistry  it  instigated  many 
generations  of  experimenters  to  the  fruitless  effort  to  convert 
lead  or  iron  into  gold  ;  in  physiology  it  suggested  the  notion 
that   the    arteries   are    air-vessels,   and   caused   that  notion 
to  be  iield  for  centuries  ;  in  pathology  it  sanctioned  the  fal- 
acy  that  fever  is  an  unnatural  exaltation  of  the  powers  of 
the  organism, — a  fallacy  which  has  sacrificed  many  a  valuable 
life  to  the  lancet ;  in  political  economy  it  favoured  the  de- 
lusion, born  of  selfish  instincts,  that  the  commercial  interests 
of  each  community  are  antagonistic  to  those  of  the  communi- 
ties with  which  it  trades. — a  delusion  which  is  responsible 


134  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

for  much  foolish  warfare,  and  which  underlies  the  whole 
iniquitous  system  of  so-called  "  protective  "  tariffs  by  which 
so  many  countries  are  even  yet  impoverished.  Verily  this 
illegitimate  deduction,  which  verifies  neither  premise  nor 
conclusion,  but  relies  wholly  on  subjective  coherence,  hafj 
been  tried  quite  long  enough  by  the  test  which  Conite 
recommends  for  it.  Just  so  far  as  men  have  verified  their 
hypotheses,  either  by  direct  observation,  or  by  deduction 
based  on  observation,  have  they  extended  the  boundaries  of 
knowledge.  Just  so  far  as  they  have  neglected  such  verifica- 
tion, have  they  gone  astray  amid  the  countless  vagaries  which 
have  ever  loved  to  encumber  the  path  of  scientific  inquiry. 
To  admit  that  we  do  not  know  what  we  have  not  verified 
requires  rare  self-denial,  no  doubt;  a  self-denial  to  which 
nothing,  save  the  patient  habit  of  scientific  inquiry,  can  fully 
accustom  us.  This  is  the  "  inconvenience  "  of  which  Comte 
speaks,  as  attaching  to  the  objective  method.  But  mankind 
are  fast  reaching  philosophic  maturity ;  and  we  are  already 
getting  too  thoroughly  used  to  the  requirements  of  science 
to  be  much  longer  content  with  the  childish  device  of  play- 
ing that  whatever  is  in  our  ideas  is  in  the  facts.  Whatever 
may  be  our  failings  in  practice,  we  have  become  nearly 
unanimous  in  the  declaration  that  before  any  hypothesis  can 
be  accepted  it  must  be  verified. 

Strange  that  in  the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth  century 
these  criticisms  should  still  need  to  be  made  !  Stranger  still 
that  they  should  be  called  forth  by  the  writings  of  the  great 
successor  of  Bacon  and  organizer  of  positive  philosophy ! 
Strangest  of  all  that  able  men  should  still  be  found  so 
imbued  with  the  spirit  of  discipleship  as  to  resort  to  all 
manner  of  logical  subterfuges  in  order  to  destroy  their  force ! 
Yet  to  show  that  I  have  by  no  means  exaggerated  the 
perversity  of  Comte's  position,  let  me  cite  a  page  from  Mr. 
Mill.  "  Among  all  the  aberrations  of  scientific  men,  Comte 
thinks  none  greater  than  the  pedantic  anxiety  thev'  show 


en.  v.]  TEE  TWO  METHODS.  135 

for  complete  proof,  and  perfect  rationalization  of  scientific 
processes.  It  ought  to  be  enough  that  the  doctrines  afford  an 
explanation  of  phenomena,  consistent  with  itself  and  with 
known  facts,  and  that  the  processes  are  justified  by  their 
fruits.  This  over-anxiety  for  proof,  he  complains,  is  breaking 
down  by  vain  scruples  the  knowledge  which  seemed  to 
have  been  obtained ;  witness  the  present  state  of  chenr'^try 
[in  1854].  The  demand  of  proof  for  what  has  been  accepted 
by  Humanity  ....  is  a  revolt  against  the  traditions  of  the 
human  race.  So  early  had  the  new  High  Priest  adopted  the 
feelings  and  taken  up  the  inheritance  of  the  old."  Mr.  Mill 
goes  on  to  remark  upon  the  new  sense  in  which  he  began  to 
employ  his  famous  aphorism  that  "  the  empire  of  the  dead 
over  the  living  continually  increases."  "  As  is  not  uncom- 
mon with  him,  he  introduces  the  dictum  in  one  sense  and 
uses  it  in  another.  What  he  at  first  means  by  it  is,  that  as 
civilization  advances,  the  sum  of  our  possessions,  physical 
and  intellectual,  is  due  in  a  decreasing  proportion  to  ourselves, 
and  in  an  increasing  one  to  our  progenitors.  The  use  he 
makes  of  it  is,  that  we  should  submit  ourselves  more  and 
more  implicitly  to  the  authority  of  previous  generations, 
and  suffer  ourselves  less  and  less  to  doubt  their  judgment, 
or  test  by  our  own  reason  the  grounds  of  their  opinions. 
The  unwillingness  of  the  human  intellect  and  conscience, 
in  their  present  state  of  '  anarchy,'  to  sign  their  own  abdi- 
cation, he  calls  '  the  insurrection  of  the  living  against  the 
dead.'  To  this  complexion  has  positive  philosophy  come 
at  last !  "1 

To  realize  the  completeness  of  the  break  between  Comte's 
earlier  and  later  speculations,  we  have  only  to  remember  that 
the  deepest  of  all  the  distinctions  which  he  sought  to 
establish  between  positive  philosophy  on  the  one  hand  and 
metaphysics  and  theology  on  the  other,  is  the  ineffaceable 
distinction  of  method :  the  one  insists  upon  objective 
1  Mill,  Attguste  Comte  and  Positivism,  p.  ]62. 


j 36  coxmic  FuiLosornr.  [n.  i. 

verification,  while  the  others  are  content  with  subjective 
congruity.  Yet  here  we  see  Comte  explicitly  and  with 
vehement  dogmatism  repudiating  observation  and  experiment, 
and  maintaining,  as  unreservedly  as  Hegel,  that  so  long  as 
our  conceptions  are  systematic  and  mutually  harmonious,  it 
makes  no  difference  whether  they  are  verified  or  not ! 

Jt  would  be  an  interesting  study  to  trace  in  detail  the 
circumstances  concerned  in  bringing  about  this  singular 
aberration  of  a  great  scientific  intellect.  For  while  the 
proclamation  of  the  subjective  method,  and  its  more  or  less 
consistent  employment,  by  Descartes  and  Hegel,  was  logically 
based  upon  their  erroneous  psychological  theories  concerning 
the  sources  of  knowledge ;  on  the  other  hand,  this  metamor- 
phosis in  the  opinions  of  Comte  had  no  logical  justification 
whatever,  but  was  determined  by  circumstances  of  a  purely 
personal  character.  It  was  due  partly  to  what  I  may  call 
the  impatience  of  constructiveness, — the  imperious  mental 
demand  for  the  erection  of  a  system  at  whatever  cost, — and 
partly  upon  the  exaggerated  over-estimate  of  self  which  is  a 
symptom  of  incipient  monomania. 

In  his  youth  Comte  was  an  insatiable  reader,  and  before 
he  began  the  work  of  constructing  the  Positive  Philosophy 
he  had  amassed  vast  stores  of  learning  in  almost  every 
department  of  knowledge.  There  is  no  good  reason  for 
doubting  that  in  1830,  when  the  publication  of  his  great 
work  began,  he  was,  with  a  few  serious  exceptions,  fully 
abreast  of  the  best  science  of  the  times.  But  in  the  course 
of  the  twelve  years  during  which  the  composition  of  this 
work  went  on,  he  found  it  desirable  to  alter  his  habits  of 
study.  Finding  that  constant  attention  to  the  progress  of 
events  interrupted  the  consecutive  development  of  his 
thoughts,  he  began  to  abstain  from  all  reading  whatever,  save 
in  a  few  of  his  favourite  poets.  Still  later  in  life  he  erected 
this  practice  into  a  general  principle  of  action,  and  as  a 
matter  of  conscience  refused  to  take  any  note  of  the  pro- 


ch.  v.]  THE  TWO  METHODS.  137 

ceedings  going  on  about  him  in  the  intellectual  world.  He 
utterly  neglected  not  only  newspapers,  but  also  contemporary 
works  on  science,  and  even  scientific  periodicals,  and  devoted 
himself  almost  exclusively  to  music  and  to  aesthetic  or 
devotional  literature,  such  as  Homer,  Dante,  Thomas  a  Kempis, 
St.  Augustine  and  Bossuet,  Moliere,  Fielding  and  Lesage. 
This  holding  aloof  from  the  course  of  contemporaiy  specula- 
tion, he  called  "  cerebral  hygiene."  It  should  rather  be 
regarded  as  a  source  of  mental  one-sidedness  than  as  a  source 
of  mental  health.  I  have  no  intention  of  depreciating  the 
vast  amount  of  invaluable  food  for  thought  which  is  to  be 
obtained  from  the  study  of  such  books  as  those  just  named. 
Without  studying  Homer  and  Dante  and  Moliere  and  the 
rest,  one  can  get  but  a  very  meagre  notion  of  human  history 
as  concretely  revealed  in  the  thoughts  of  past  generations. 
Nor  can  it  be  denied  that  there  was  much  that  was  truly 
sensible  in  Comte's  plan  of  leaving  off  study  when  about  to 
write.  The  successful  expositor  of  a  system  of  thought  is 
not  the  man  who  is  always  cramming,  and  who  perhaps  keeps 
but  a  few  weeks  in  advance  of  the  particular  theme  which 
he  is  expounding.  It  is  the  man  who  by  long  years  of  patient 
thinking  has  completely  mastered  the  system,  and  has  it  so 
thoroughly  elaborated  in  his  mind  that  he  can  sit  down  and 
write  it  out  of  the  fulness  of  his  knowledge,  without  needing 
to  look  at  books.  And  in  such  cases  it  is  no  doubt  desirable 
to  shut  oneself  up  and  allow  nothing  to  distract  the  mind 
until  the  work  is  accomplished.  So  far,  Comte  was  doubtless 
wistr  in  doing  as  he  did.  But  beyond  this  point,  there  is  no 
wisdom  in  keeping  aloof  from  contemporary  matters.  As 
soon  as  writing  is  done,  reading  should  begin  again  ;  every 
conclusion  should  be  carefully  verified,  and  every  statement 
revised  in  the  light  of  the  newest  science.  Otherwise  room 
\s  left  for  the  subjective  method  to  enter,  and  opportunity  is 
given  the  mind  to  tickle  itself  with  the  belief  that  it  has 
reached  finality  on  some  points.     There  is  no  safety  for  the 


138  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  l 

thinker  who  isolates  himself,  year  after  year,  from  the  work 
which  his  contemporaries  are  doing.  Such  a  proceeding,  as 
Comte's  experience  is  enough  to  show,  is  fraught  with  grave 
dangers,  both  intellectual  and  moral.  The  intellectual  danger 
is  that  the  thinker  will  be  left  hopelessly  in  the  rear  of  the 
scientific  movement  of  the  age ;  will  lose,  from  lack  of  the 
requisite  stimulus  supplied  by  open  criticism  and  argument, 
the  habit  of  bringing  all  his  conclusions  to  the  test  of  verifica- 
tion ;  and  will  thus  gradually  fall  into  the  habit  of  reasoning 
upon  his  plausible  hypotheses  as  if  they  were  established. 
The  moral  danger  is  that  which  menaces  all  isolation,  social 
or  intellectual,— the  danger  of  excessive  egoism,  of  over- 
confidence  in  one's  own  conclusions,  and  undue  respect  for 
one's  own  achievements.  It  is  well  enough  for  a  writer 
to  be  dogmatic,  provided  his  dogmatism  is  sustained  by 
vigorous  argument.  But  the  writer  is  past  all  hope  who 
habitually  thinks  to  make  loud  assertion  do  the  duty  of 
argument ;  and  this  is  a  habit  into  which  every  one  is 
more  or  less  liable  to  fall  who  is  not  constantly  coming 
in  contact  with  other  thinkers,  and  forced  continually  to 
defend  his  conclusions  by  the  objective  appeal  to  univers- 
ally admitted  principles. 

I  believe  these  considerations  will  go  far  toward  accounting 
for  the  unfortunate  position  taken  by  Comte  toward  the  close 
of  his  life.  Always  of  a  warm  and  enthusiastic  tempera- 
ment, self-confident  to  an  inordinate  degree,  and  vain  with 
more  than  a  Frenchman's  vanity,  during  his  long  period  of 
isolation  these  traits  and  tendencies  were  unduly  strengthened. 
The  consciousness — to  a  certain  extent  well  founded — of  the 
grandeur  of  the  task  which  he  had  accomplished,  grew  upon 
him  apace ;  and  not  taking  note  of  the  serious  defects  and 
omissions  which  advancing  science  was  constantly  disclosing 
in  that  work,  he  became  more  and  more  settled  in  the  con- 
viction that  it  was  final,  so  far  as  it  had  gone.  Measuring 
all  his  newly-framed  hypotheses  solely  by  their  congruity 


ch.  v.]  THE  TWO  METHODS.  139 

with  the  general  system  of  his  conceptions,  he  gradually  lost 
the  scientific  habit.  He  ceased  to  take  into  account  the  fact 
that  what  seemed  a  necessary  inference  to  him  would  not 
necessarily  seem  so  to  minds  differently  moulded,  unless 
sustained  by  the  requisite  proofs  Thus  he  emerged  from  the 
scientific  into  a  pontifical  state  of  mind,  in  which,  just  as 
with  Plato  in  his  old  age,  it  was  enough  that  an  opinion 
seemed  true  to  him  for  him  straightway  to  proclaim  it  as 
binding  on  all  men.1  Moreover  it  is  not  improbable  that  his 
too  exclusive  intercourse  with  the  devotional  writers  of  the 
Middle  Ages  had  much  influence  in  generating  that  mystical 
tone  which  characterizes  all  his  later  writings.  The  "  Imita- 
tion of  Christ "  is  a  noble  wTork,  which  has  been  a  comfort  to 
many  generations ;  but  it  is  hardly  a  suitable  book  with 
which  to  nourish  one's  habits  of  scientific  thought.  By  long 
contemplation  of  the  many  admirable  features  of  mediaeval 
civilization — features  to  which  no  previous  writer  had  done 
such  unstinted  justice — Comte  came  at  last  to  forget  his 
relative  point  of  view,  and  in  his  horror  of  revolutionary 
anarchy  he  began  to  imagine  that  certain  points  of  medi- 

1  In  its  initial  scientific  attitude  and  in  its  final  grotesque  vagaries,  the 
career  of  Plato's  mind  may  be  instructively  compared  with  that  of  Comte's. 
In  his  earlier  dialogues  Plato  professes  to  be,  like  Sokrate-,  a  mere  investi- 
gator of  the  methods  by  which  trustworthy  knowledge  is  obtained  ;  just  as 
Comte,  in  his  first  great  work,  is  simply  a  co-ordinator  of  scientific  methods 
and  doctrines.  In  the  Parmenides  and  Theaitetos,  indeed,  we  may  find,  as 
strikingly  presented  as  in  any  modern  treatise,  the  antinomies  or  alternative 
impossibilities  which,  like  the  lions  before  Palace  Beautiful,  confront  the  pil- 
grim on  either  hand  whenever  he  seeks  to  cross  the  barrier  which  divides  the 
realm  of  science  from  that  of  metaphysics.  But  at  a  later  period  we  find 
Plato,  like  Comte,  renouncing  the  scientific  attitude,  and  setting  himself  up 
as  the  founder  of  an  ideal  Community,  in  which  the  pervading  tendencies 
which  have  shaped  actual  societies  were  to  be  ignored  or  overridden,  and  in 
which  existence  was  to  be  made  intolerable  to  all  persons  not  built  after  the 
Vlatouic  pattern.  And  finally  we  have  seen  Plato,  in  the  Timaios,  working 
cut  a  system  of  the  universe  in  accordance  with  his  own  subjective  concep- 
tions, and  making  a  very  sorry  piece  of  work  of  it  when  compared  with  con- 
temporary science  as  displayed  in  the  writings  of  Hippokrates  and  Aristotle  ; 
just  as  Comte,  in  his  latest  years,  began  to  write  a  "Subjective  Synthesis"  in 
Vhich  scientific  truths  are  fearfully  and  wonderfully  travestied.  Historic 
parallel]'  sms  are  often  very  misleading  ;  but  the  parallel  here  indicated  is  one 
which  I  believe  the  most  sedulous  examination  will  justify. 


140  cosmic  puiLoaorji  v.  [ft.  l 

revalism  might  be  again  revived  and  engrafted  upon  our 
modern  life.  Thus  by  degrees  he  framed  the  conception  of 
a  sort  of  Neo-Catholicisin,  with  power  as  unlimited  and 
ceremonies  as  complicated  as  the  old  one,  but  with  the 
science  of  1830  substituted  for  evangelical  theology,  and 
with  Comte  installed  as  sovereign  Pontiff.  As  a  natural 
result  of  this  new  position,  his  self-confidence  grew  until  it 
became  even  too  great  to  be  ludicrous.  Literary  history 
affords  us  no  other  example  approaching  to  it,  unless,  as  Mr. 
Mill  suggests,  in  the  case  here  and  there  of  some  "  entirely 
self-taught  thinker  who  has  no  high  standard  with  which  to 
compare  himself."  He  habitually  alludes  to  himself  as  the 
peer  of  Aristotle  and  St.  Paul  combined ;  or  as  the  only 
really  great  philosopher,  save  Descartes  and  Leibnitz,  who  has 
been  seen  in  modern  times. 

When  in  a  future  chapter  we  come  to  examine  the  system 
of  polity  which  awakened  in  Comte  such  transcendent  self- 
commendation,  we  shall  find,  as  might  be  expected  from  the 
subjective  method  pursued,  but  little  that  is  of  value  to 
reward  our  search  ;  although  there  are  detached  speculations 
of  great  interest,  serving  to  remind  us  that  we  are  dealing 
with  a  mighty  though  fallen  thinker,  and  not  with  an  un- 
disciplined pretender.  For  the  purpose  of  the  present 
chapter  it  will  be  enough  to  note  some  of  his  latest  philosophic 
vagaries,  in  which,  pushing  the  subjective  method  to  the 
limits  of  self-refuting  absurdity,  he  maintained  that  all 
science  should  be  remodelled  in  conformity  to  the  require- 
ments of  the  imagination.  Missing  links  in  the  geological 
series  of  plants  and  animals  should  be  supplied  by  fictitious 
"  constructions  of  the  reason,"  so  that  our  craving  for 
Bymmetry  may  be  appeased.  Above  all,  science  must  be  as 
far  as  possible  deprived  of  its  "  dryness,"  and  vivified  by 
"sentiment."  To  this  end  it  is  well  to  accustom  ourselves 
to  the  belief  that  all  nature  is  alive,  and  that  inorganic 
bodies,  for  instance,  exert  volition  and  feel  what  is  done  to 


cb.  v.J  THE  TWO  METHODS.  141 

them !  Fetishism  is,  in  express  terms,  restored,  and  we  are 
invited  to  adore  the  Earth  as  the  Grand  Fetiche.  This  great 
fetish  is  supposed  to  have  planned  a  shrewd  system  of  shocks 
or  explosions,  by  which  to  render  its  orbit  less  eccentric  and 
the  inclination  of  its  axis  better  fitted  for  the  requirements 
of  the  Grand  Etrc,  the  Human  Eace.  But  even  this  is  not 
enough  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  "  le  cceur."  We  must 
adore  whatever  is  useful  to  Humanity,  and  therefore  must 
erect  Space  into  a  deity,  and  endow  it  with  feeling,  though 
not  with  intelligence.  Not  only  physics  but  mathematics 
also  must  be  made  religious.  And  thus  we  reach  the  Comtist 
Trinity, — Humanity,  the  Grand  Being;  Earth,  the  Grand 
Fetish;  and  Space,  the  Grand  Medium  !! !  Decimal  numera- 
tion is  to  be  abandoned  in  favour  of  a  septimal  system ; 
because  seven  is  a  sacred  number,  and  moreover  a  prime 
number,  incapable  of  division,  and  therefore  well  adapted  to 
impress  us  with  a  due  sense  of  the  weakness  of  the  human 
mind  and  the  limitations  of  thought !  This  is  the  wonderful 
philosophy  which  is  thought  worthy  to  take  the  place  of  the 
vain  inquiries  which  scientific  men  still  obstinately  persist 
in  making,  into  the  motions  of  the  stars,  the  undulations 
of  atoms,  and  the  development  of  organic  life  upon  the 
globe  ! 

Thus  we  might  go  on  citing  page  after  page  of  the  most 
extravagant  vagaries  ever  conceived  outside  of  Bedlam ;  or, 
remembering  the  many  valuable  services  for  which  mankind 
must  ever  be  grateful  to  Comte,  we  might  less  harshly,  and 
not  less  truly,  call  them  the  most  mournful  exhibition 
furnished  by  the  annals  of  philosophy,  of  a  great  mind 
utterly  shattered  and  ruined.  Mr.  Lewes  rejects  somewhat 
vehemently  the  suggestion  of  M.  Littre\  that  these  wild  fancies 
are  evidence  of  actual  insanity.1  For  my  own  part,  I  do  not 
see  what  there  is  unsound  or  uncharitable  in  M.  Littre's 
suggestion.  The  only  healthful  activity  of  the  mind  is  an 
1  History  of  Philosophy,  3rd  edit.  vol.  ii.  p.  583. 


142  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

objective  activity,  in  which  there  is  as  little  brooding  over 
self  as  possible.  The  less  we  think  of  ourselves,  and  the 
more  we  think  of  our  work,  the  better.  Dwelling  on  subjective 
fancies  rarely  fails  to  throw  the  mind  out  of  balance  ;  it  is  at 
the  bottom  of  all  religious  melancholia  and  suicidal  mono- 
mania, as  well  as  of  many  other  forms  of  cerebral  disease.  For 
a  dozen  or  fifteen  years,  Comte's  life  was  such  as  to  make  a 
man  insane,  if  anything  could  ;  and  we  should  not  forget, 
whatever  may  be  the  physiological  significance  of  the  fact, 
that  in  his  early  manhood  he  had  experienced  a  violent  attack 
of  acute  mania.  His  astounding  self-conceit  was  more  akin 
to  that  which  may  be  seen  in  lunatic  asylums  than  to 
anything  which  is  known  to  have  been  manifested  by  persons 
in  a  state  of  health.  I  am  strongly  inclined  to  believe  that 
the  harmonious  activity  of  his  brain  never  fully  recovered 
from  the  shock  given  it  by  that  first  attack.  Very  likely 
that  attack  is  partly  responsible  for  the  self-brooding  tendency 
which  led  him  to  abandon  the  world,  and  lead  a  secluded  life 
among  his  own  unbridled  fancies.  And  it  is  not  improbable 
that  this  long-continued  self-communion  carried  him  on  the 
road  to  chronic  subacute  monomania,  until,  when  he  wrote 
the  "  Synthase  Subjective,"  he  had  just  overstepped  the  ill- 
defined  limit  which  divides  precarious  cerebral  health  from 
pronounced  cerebral  disease.  Nevertheless  this  hypothesis, 
though  it  seems  most  plausible,  is  perhaps  not  absolutely 
required  by  the  facts.  In  this  chapter  we  have  seen  how  an 
exclusive  reliance  on  the  subjective  method  has  bred  in 
others,  besides  Comte,  the  most  shocking  extravagances.  It 
may  be,  after  all,  that  Comte's  vagaries  are  not  so  very  much 
wilder  than  those  of  Hegel  and  Plato  ;  since  Plato's  absurdities 
are  less  in  conflict  with  the  scientific  knowledge  of  the  times 
in  which  they  were  conceived,  and  Hegel's  are  veiled  by  the 
dense  obscurity  of  a  pompous  metaphysical  terminology. 
When  Hegel  tells  us  that  "  Seyn  ist  Seyn,  und  nicht  Anders : 
Anders  ist  Anders,  und  nicht  Seyn  "  (Being  is  Being,  and  not 


m.  v.]  TME  TWO  METHODS.  143 

Otherwise  :  Otherwise  is  Otherwise,  and  not  Being),  ^e,  are 
overawed  perhaps,  but  not  immediately  disgusted.  There  is 
an  air  of  excessive  profundity  about  the  oracular  dictum,  and 
for  a  moment  we  think  there  may  perhaps  be  something  in 
it,  which  does  not  appear  on  the  surface, — some  occult  verity 
which,  as  Hegelians  tell  us,  fifty  years  more  of  enlighten- 
ment may  enable  us  to  realize.  But  Comte's  thoughts  are 
presented,  not  in  the  muddiest  technical  German,  but  in  the 
clearest  idiomatic  French  :  when  he  makes  the  earth  a  fetish, 
and  talks  about  a  dance  of  the  planets,  the  idea  stands  out 
in  all  its  naked  absurdity.  In  spite  of  all  this,  however,  I 
am  inclined  to  believe  that  Comte  sounded  a  deeper  depth 
of  extravagance  than  either  Plato  or  Hegel.  Insanity  is, 
after  all,  only  the  excessive  lack  of  correspondence  between 
the  order  of  conceptions  and  the  order  of  phenomena.  That 
is  what  we  mean  when  we  characterize  it  as  delusion  or 
hallucination.  And  when  we  avowedly  employ  a  method 
which  never  deigns  to  adapt  the  internal  order  to  the 
external  order,  there  is  no  foreseeing  the  depth  of  the  ditch 
in  which  we  may  be  landed.  The  difference  between  the 
delusion  which  we  regard  as  compatible  with  sanity,  and 
that  which  we  commiserate  as  insane,  is  mainly  a  difference 
of  degree.  And  whether  we  are  to  call  Comte  crazy  or  not, 
is  to  a  great  extent  a  question  of  terminology.  Certain  it 
is,  that  if  Adelung  had  lived  to  witness  Comte's  latest 
speculations,  he  might  have  found  in  them  the  materials  for 
a  more  wonderful  chapter  than  any  of  those  now  contained 
in  his  voluminous  "  History  of  Human  Error." 

In  these  interesting  vagaries  we  may  find  renewed  evidence 
of  the  close  kinship  between  the  "  dreams  "  of  the  ontologist, 
the  fancies  of  the  myth-maker,  and  the  hallucinations  of  the 
insane,  in  so  far  as  concerns  the  method  employed.  Never- 
theless it  would  be  highly  unjust  to  hold  the  Positive  Philo- 
sophy responsible  for  these  inanities,  or  for  those  of  the 
pseudo -positivists  who  would   seem  to  set  larger  store  by 


144  COSMIC  nilLOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

their  master's  personal  shortcomings  than  by  his  permanently 
valuable  contributions  to  philosophy.  Notonlythe  disciple, 
but  also  the  impartial  critic,  may  fairly  urge  that  the  Positive 
Philosophy  is  something  greater  than  Comte,  just  as  the  dif- 
ferential calculus  is  something  greater  than  Newton  or  Leib- 
nitz.  If  Newton,  in  his  old  nge,  had  become  so  far  lost  to 
all  seme  of  scientific  propriety  as  to  apply  his  method  of 
fluxions  to  the  solution  of  physiological  or  ethical  problems, 
much  discredit  would  have  attached  to  Newton,  but  none  to 
the  method  of  fluxions.  Succeeding  inquirers  would  have 
criticized  him  in  the  light  of  his  own  principles,  and  would 
have  felt  obliged  to  mourn  the  decadence  of  his  godlike  in- 
tellect, but  the  question  would  have  been  mainly  a  personal 
one,  affecting  in  no  way  our  estimate  of  the  Newtonian 
mathematics.  In  like  manner,  when  we  characterize  Comte's 
later  speculations  as  vagaries  hardly  compatible  with  sanity, 
we  cast  no  discredit  upon  the  Positive  Philosophy,  since  our 
whole  argument  implies  that  these  speculations  were  con- 
ducted in  utter  disregard  of  those  canons  of  research  which 
it  is  the  chief  glory  of  the  Positive  Philosophy  to  have  insti- 
tuted. It  is  one  of  Comte's  most  legitimate  claims  to  im- 
mortal remembrance  that,  with  greater  authority  and  far 
wider  scientific  resources  than  Bacon,  he  succeeded  in  intro- 
ducing the  objective  method  into  departments  of  research 
where  previously  metaphysical  interpretations  had  reigned 
supreme  and  unquestioned.  For  this  he  must  ever  be 
regarded  as  one  of  the  worthiest  among  the  "  servants  and 
interpreters  of  Nature."  And  it  is  mainly  because  of  his 
pre-eminence  as  an  inaugurator  of  scientific  method  that  it 
has  become  customary  to  identify  with  Positivism  every 
philosophy  which,  like  the  system  expounded  in  this  work, 
seeks  to  give  synthetic  expression  to  the  ripest  scientific 
thought  of  our  age.  If  the  question  were  only  one  of  method, 
we  might  acquiesce  in  this  identification.  But,  as  I  have 
already  plainly  indicated  and  shall  presently  show  more  fully 


ch.  v]  THE  TWO  METHODS.  145 

our  divergence  from  Positivism  is  so  fundamental  with  re- 
gard to  the  deepest  and  gravest  questions  with  which  Philo- 
sophy is  concerned,  that,  as  Comte  would  unquestionably 
repudiate  us  as  disciples,  so  do  we  unhesitofciagiy  repudiate 
him  as  a  master. 


vol.  l 


CHAPTER  Vt 


CAUSATION. 


In  the  course  of  our  examination  of  the  Kantian  doctrine  of 
Necessary  Truths,  the  origin  and  justification  of  our  belief  in 
the  necessity  of  causation  was  incidentally  discussed.  We 
found  that  this  belief  can  be  explained  and  defended  only  as 
the  product  of  a  mental  limitation  due  to  absolute  uniformity 
of  experience.  We  believe  that,  under  the  requisite  conditions 
fire  burned  before  we  were  born,  that  it  now  burns  in  regions 
to  which  we  have  never  had  access,  and  that  it  will  continue 
to  burn  as  long  as  the  world  lasts,  simply  because  we  are  in- 
capable of  forming  conceptions  of  which  the  materials  are 
not  supplied  by  experience,  and  because  experience  has  never 
presented  to  our  consciousness  an  instance  of  fire  which, 
under  the  requisite  conditions  for  burning,  did  not  burn.  Or, 
in  other  words,  we  believe  that  in  the  absence  of  preventive 
conditions,  fire  must  always  and  everywhere  burn,  because 
our  concept  of  fire  is  the  concept  of  a  thing  which  burns,  and 
this  concept  has  been  formed  exclusively  by  our  experience 
of  fire.  You  may,  like  a  mediaeval  sorcerer,  envelope  your 
hand  in  a  soapy  substance  which  will,  for  a  few  moments, 
check  oxidation  of  the  epidermis ;  or  you  may  insert  your 
hand  in  the  blaze  and  withdraw  it  again  so  quickly  that, 
since  chemical  action  takes  time,  oxidation  will  not  have  a 


ch.  vi.]  CAUSATION.  147 

chance  to  begin,  and  your  skin  will  escape ; — these  are  dis- 
turbing conditions.  But  to  say  that,  in  the  absence  of  such 
conditions,  the  blaze  will  not  burn  your  inserted  hand,  is  to 
state  a  proposition  which  is  unthinkable, — a  proposition  of 
which  the  elements  cannot  be  united  in  thought  save  by 
their  mutual  destruction.  Why  is  this  proposition  unthink- 
able? It  is  because  not  only  the  material  of  our  knowledge 
but  our  very  mental  structure  itself,  as  I  shall  hereafter  show, 
is  due  solely  to  that  perpetual  intercourse  between  subject 
and  object  which  we  call  experience,  so  that,  whatever  verbal 
feats  we  may  succeed  in  accomplishing,  we  can  unite  in 
thought  no  subject  and  predicate  for  the  union  of  which  ex- 
perience has  not  in  some  way  or  other  supplied  the  condi- 
tions. I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  the  proposition  in  question 
is  not  one  which  some  ingenious  person  might  stoutly  main- 
tain as  a  theory.  We  might,  no  doubt,  hold  the  theory  that 
Fire  does  not  burn,  just  as  we  might  espouse  the  doctrine 
that  Triangles  are  circular,  or  that  Matter  is  destructible.  But 
as  was  sufficiently  proved  in  the  chapter  on  the  Test  of  Truth, 
this  shows  only  that  it  is  possible  for  men  to  accept  and 
defend  propositions  which  they  cannot  truly  conceive.  It  is 
easy  to  state  the  proposition  that  the  Whole  is  equal  to  its 
Part;  but  it  is  none  the  less  impossible  to  think  the  thought 
or  no-thought,  which  the  proposition  seeks  to  express.  We 
are  under  a  mental  compulsion  to  think  of  the  whole  as 
greater  than  its  part,  and  to  think  of  fire  as  a  thing  which 
burns,  because  the  conditions  of  our  thinking  have  been  pre- 
scribed by  that  intercourse  between  our  mind  and  environing 
agencies,  which  we  call  experience. 

It  is  for  the  same  reason  that  the  mind  is  compelled  to 
believe  in  the  necessity  of  causation,  and  that  the  cultivated 
mind,  which  can  realize  all  the  essential  conditions  of  the 
case,  is  compelled  to  believe  in  its  universality.  For  what  is 
the  belief  in  the  necessity  and  universality  of  causation? 
It  is  the  belief  that  every  event  must  be  determined  by  some 

L  2 


148  COSMIC  rUlLOSOFHT.  [pt.  i. 

preceding  event  and  must  itself  determine  some  succeeding 
event.  And  whal  is  an  event?  It  is  a  manifestation  of  force. 
The  falling  of  a  stone,  the  union  of  two  gases,  the  blowing  of 
a-  wind,  the  breaking  of  wood  or  glass,  the  vibration  of  a  cord, 
the  expansion  of  a  heated  body,  the  sprouting  of  a  seed,  the 
circulation  of  blood,  the  development  of  inflammation,  the 
contracting  of  a  muscle,  the  thinking  of  a  thought,  the  excite- 
ment of  an  emotion, — all  these  are  manifestations  of  force. 
To  speak  of  an  event  which  is  not  a  manifestation  of  f<>rce> 
is  to  use  language  which  is  empty  of  significance.  Therefore 
our  belief  in  the  necessity  and  universality  of  causation  is  the 
belief  that  every  manifestation  of  force  must  be  preceded  and 
succeeded  by  some  equivalent  manifestation.  Or,  in  an 
ultimate  analysis,  it  is  the  belief  that  force,  as  manifested  to 
our  consciousness,  can  neither  arise  out  of  nothing  nor  lapse 
into  nothing — can  neither  be  created  nor  annihilated.  And 
the  negation  of  this  belief  is  unthinkable ;  since  to  think  it 
would  be  to  perform  the  impossible  task  of  establishing  in 
thought  an  equation  between  something  and  nothing. 

This,  I  suppose,  is  what  Sir  William  Hamilton  had  in  his 
mind  when  he  asserted  that  our  belief  in  the  necessity  and 
universality  of  causation  is  due  to  an  original  impotence  of 
the  conceptive  faculty, — to  our  inability  to  conceive  absolute 
beginning  or  absolute  ending.  In  his  examination  of  Hamil- 
ton's philosophy,  Mr.  Mill  has  made  sad  havoc  of  some  of  the 
crude  and  hasty  statements,  and  yet  more  unfortunate  theo- 
logical illustrations,  in  which  Hamilton  couched  this  doctrine ; 
but  the  doctrine  itself  he  seems  to  have  misunderstood  rather 
than  refuted.  His  favourite  argument — that  at  one  stage  of 
philosophic  culture  we  can  conceive  what  at  an  earlier  or 
later  stage  we  could  not  conceive — rests  upon  a  confusion  of 
language  which  I  trust  has  been  sufficiently  shown  up  in  the 
course  of  the  foregoing  discussion.  As  I  have  already  said, 
the  only  kind  of  inconceivability  which  we  can  admit  as  such 
is  an  impotence  which  results  from  the  very  constitution  of 


mi.  vi.]  CAUSATION.  149 

the  thinking  process.  As  was  shown  in  the  first  chapter  on 
the  lielativity  of  Knowledge,  this  is  the  case  with  our  inability 
to  conceive  absolute  beginning  or  absolute  ending.  We  must 
therefore,  to  a  certain  extent,  accept  the  Hamiltonian  doctrine 
that  our  belief  in  the  necessity  and  universality  of  causation 
is  due  to  an  original  impotence  of  the  conceptive  faculty ; 
save  that  an  ultimate  psychoh >gical  analysis  obliges  us  to  re- 
gard this  original  impotence  as  simply  the  obverse  of  our 
inability  to  transcend  our  experience. 

Here  again  we  come  upon  a  bit  of  common  ground  which 
underlies  two  opposing  philosophies.  For  our  last  sentence, 
in  its  assertion  and  in  its  proviso,  recognizes  both  aspects  of  the 
universal  truth  of  which  Kant  and  Hamilton  on  the  one  hand, 
and  Hume  and  Mill  on  the  other  hand,  have  persisted  in 
recognizing  only  one  aspect.  Here  again  we  see  exemplified 
what  our  sketch  of  the  Newtonian  discovery  in  the  previous 
chapter  taught  us, — namely,  the  value  of  that  objective  method 
which,  instead  of  ignoring  an  unexplained  residuum,  recog- 
nizes it  as  justifying  further  research.  The  unexplained 
residuum  in  the  present  case  was  the  coexistence  of  an 
element  of  necessity  in  a  given  belief  with  an  experiential 
origin  for  the  belief.  Following  the  subjective  method,  Hume 
denied  the  necessity,  Kant  denied  the  experiential  origin. 
But  the  objective  method,  recognizing  the  coexistence  of  the 
two  as  a  fact  to  be  accounted  for,  and  employing  a  psycho- 
logical analysis  inaccessible  to  Hume  and  Kant,  discovers  that 
the  necessity  of  the  belief  and  its  experiential  origin  are 
but  two  sides  of  the  same  fundamental  fact. 

From  the  origin  and  justification  of  our  belief  in  causation, 
let  us  now  pass  to  the  contents  of  the  belief.  Since  there 
is  nothing  in  the  belief  that  has  not  been  given  in  ex- 
perience, let  us  endeavour  to  state  what  is  and  what  is  not 
given  in  our  experience  of  an  act  of  causation.  In  the  first 
place  sequence  is  clearly  given  in  the  phenomenon.  "  Even 
granting  that  an  effect  may  commence  simultaneously  with 


150  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [n.  I 

its  cause,"  this  view  is  in  no  way  practically  invalidated. 
As  Mr.  Mill  says,  "Whether  the  cause  and  its  effect  be 
necessarily  successive  or  not,  the  beginning  of  a  phenomenon 
is  what  implies  a  cause,  and  causation  is  the  law  of  the 
succession  of  phenomena.  ...  I  have  no  objection  to  define 
a  cause,  the  assemblage  of  phenomena,  which  occurring, 
some  phenomenon  invariably  commences,  or  has  its  origin 
Whether  the  effect  coincides  in  point  of  time  with,  or  im- 
mediately follows,  the  hindmost  of  its  conditions,  is  imma- 
terial. At  all  events  it  does  not  precede  it ;  and  when  we 
are  in  doubt,  between  two  coexistent  phenomena,  which  is 
cause  and  which  is  effect,  we  rightly  deem  the  question 
solved  if  we  can  ascertain  which  of  them  preceded  the 
other."  i 

Secondly,  invariableness  of  sequence  is  given  in  our  ex- 
perience of  causation.  Invariableness  is  the  chief  mark  by 
which  we  distinguish  those  sequences  which  are  causal  from 
those  sequences  which  are  commonly  termed  accidental. 
The  well-known  fallacy  of  post  hoc,  ergo  propter  hoc,  upon 
which  are  founded  most  of  the  current  hygienic  and  thera- 
peutic vagaries  which  claim  to  be  upheld  by  experience, 
aris  is  from  the  neglect  of  this  essential  distinction.  It 
lumps  together  all  kinds  of  sequence  under  the  general  head 
of  causation.  If  drinking  a  cup  of  coffee  is  followed  by 
headache,  or  if  a  troublesome  fit  of  indigestion  ends  after 
taking  a  dose  of  patent  medicine,  it  is  rashly  inferred  that 
the  coffee  caused  the  headache,  or  that  the  medicine  cured 
the  indigestion.  This  is  not  legitimate  induction.  The 
sequence  may  be  accidental  and  not  causal.  The  headache 
may  have  been  caused  by  eating  hot  risen  biscuit,  by  inhaling 
carbonic  oxide  sent  up  from  the  furnace,  by  overwork,  or  by 
loss  of  sleep ;  or  it  may  be  the  premonitory  symptom  of  a 
typhoid  fever  due  to  imperfect  drainage.  The  indigestion 
may  have  been  cured  by  a  ride  on  horseback,  or  by  a  walk 
1  Mill,  Syst&m  of  Logic,  6th  edit.  vol.  i.  p.  384. 


ml  vi.]  CAUSATION.  151 

on  a  frosty  morning,  or  by  a  piece  of  good  news,  or  by  a 
rhythmical  increase  in  the  rate  of  nutrition  for  which  no 
definite  external  cause  is  assignable.     It  is  the  business  of 
induction  to  eliminate,  as  far  as  possible,  all  these  coexistent 
"possible  causes,  so   as   to   ascertain,  after   the   elimination, 
whether  the  sequence  between  the  presumed  cause  and  the 
effect  is  invariable.     If  it  turns  out  to  be  so,  and,  still  better, 
if  by  reasoning  deductively  from  the  experimentally-ascer- 
tained action  of  the  coffee  or  the  medicine  upon  the  organic 
tissues  involved  in  the  case,  further  proof  of  the  invariable- 
ness  of  the  given  sequences  can  be  obtained, — then  we  say 
that  we  have  detected  a  case  of  true  causation.     When  we 
have  extended  our  inquiries  in  any  case  so  far  as  to  be  able 
to  predicate  invariable  sequence,  then  we  predicate  causation. 
A  moment's  reflection,  however,  will  show  us  that  there 
are  sequences  which  have  been  invariable   throughout  the 
whole  course  of  human  experience,  but  which  are  not  re- 
garded as  causal  sequences.     Ever  since   there   have   been 
conscious  minds  to  interpret  phenomena,  day  has  followed 
night,  and  night  has  followed  day,  and  yet  no  one  would  say 
that  day  causes  night,  or  that  night  causes  day.     In  order 
to  include   such  cases  as  this,  we  must  limit  still  further 
our  definition  of  causation.     The  sequence  must  be  uncon- 
ditional as  well  as  invariable.     This,  as  Mr.  Mill  observes, 
"is  what  writers  mean  when  they  say  that  the  notion  of 
cause  involves  the  idea  of  necessity.     If  there  be  any  mean- 
ing which  confessedly  belongs  to  the  term  '  necessity,'  it  is 
unconditionalness.1    That  which  is  necessary,  that  which  must 
be,  means  that  which  will  be,  whatever  supposition  wo  may 
make  in  regard  to  all  other  things.     The  succession  of  day 
and  night  evidently  is  not  necessary  in  this  sense.     It  is 
conditional  on  the  occurrence  of  other  antecedents.     That 
which  will  be  followed  by  a  given  consequent  when,  and 

1  This,  it  will  be  seen,  agrees  with  Mr.  Lewes's  admirable  view  of  Nece*> 
lity,  cited  above  in  Chapter  III. 


152  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

only  when,  some  third  circumstance  also  exists,  is  not  the 
cause,  even  though  no  case  should  ever  have  occuired  in 
which  the  phenomenon  took  place  without  it."  Now,  either 
day  or  night  "  might  have  existed  for  any  length  of  time,  and 
the  other  not  have  followed  the  sooner  for  its  existence :  day* 
follows  night  only  if  certain  other  antecedents  [the  presence 
of  the  sun  above  the  horizon,  and  the  absence  of  any  eclipsing 
opaque  body  from  the  direct  path  of  the  solar  rays]  exist ; 
and  where  those  antecedents  existed,  it  would  follow  in  any 
case.  No  one,  probably,  ever  called  night  the  cause  of  day ; 
mankind  must  so  soon  have  arrived  at  the  very  obvious 
generalization,  that  the  state  of  general  illumination  which 
we  call  day  would  follow  from  the  presence  of  a  sufficiently 
luminous  body,  whether  darkness  had  preceded  or  not." 

Mr.  Mill's  further  explanation  of  this  point  is  so  luminous 
that  I  prefer  to  cite  it  in  his  own  words,  rather  than  to 
abridge  and  dilute  it.  "  To  some,"  says  Mr.  Mill,  "  it  may 
appear  that  the  sequence  between  night  and  day  being  in- 
variable in  our  experience,  we  have  as  much  ground  in  this 
case  as  experience  can  give  in  any  case,  for  recognizing  the 
two  phenomena  as  cause  and  effect;  and  that  to  say  that 
more  is  necessary — to  require  a  belief  that  the  succession  is 
unconditional,  or  in  other  words  that  it  would  be  invariable 
under  all  changes  of  circumstances,  is  to  acknowledge  in 
causation  an  element  of  belief  not  derived  from  experience. 
The  answer  to  this  is,  that  it  is  experience  itself  which 
teaches  us  that  one  uniformity  of  sequence  is  conditional 
and  another  unconditional.  When  we  judge  that  the  succes- 
sion of  night  and  day  is  a  derivative  sequence,  depending  on 
something  else,  we  proceed  on  grounds  of  experience.  It  is 
the  evidence  of  experience  which  convinces  us  that  day  could 
equally  exist  without  being  followed  by  night,  and  that  night 
could  equally  exist  without  being  followed  by  day.  To  say 
that  these  beliefs  '  are  not  generated  by  our  mere  observation 
of  sequence,'  ia  to  forget  that  twice  in  every  twenty-fou 


ch.vi.]  CAUSATION.  153 

hours,  when  the  sky  is  clear,  we  have  an  cxperimentum  cruris 
that  the  cause  of  day  is  the  sun.  We  have  an  experimental 
knowledge  of  the  sun  which  justifies  us  on  experimental 
grounds  in  concluding,  that  if  the  sun  were  always  above 
the  horizon  there  would  be  day,  though  there  had  been  no 
night,  and  that  if  the  sun  were  always  below  the  horizon 
there  would  be  night,  though  there  had  been  no  day.  We 
thus  know  from  experience  that  the  succession  of  night  and 
day  is  not  unconditional.  Let  me  add,  that  the  antecedent 
which  is  only  conditionally  invariable,  is  not  the  invariable 
antecedent.  Though  a  fact  may,  in  experience,  have  always 
been  followed  by  another  fact,  yet  if  the  remainder  of 
our  experience  teaches  us  that  it  might  not  always  be  so 
followed,  or  if  the  experience  itself  is  such  as  leaves  room 
for  a  possibility  that  the  known  cases  may  not  correctly 
represent  all  possible  cases,  the  hitherto  invariable  antecedent 
is  not  accounted  the  cause  :  but  why  ?  Because  we  are  not 
sure  that  it  is  the  invariable  antecedent." 

Furthermore  let  it  be  noted  that  "  such  cases  of  sequence 
as  that  of  day  and  night  not  only  do  not  contradict  the 
doctrine  which  resolves  causation  into  invariable  sequence, 
but  are  necessarily  implied  in  that  doctrine.  It  is  evident, 
that  from  a  limited  number  of  unconditional  sequences,  there 
will  result  a  much  greater  number  of  conditional  ones. 
Certain  causes  being  given,  that  is,  certain  antecedents  which 
are  unconditionally  followed  by  certain  consequents;  the 
mere  coexistence  of  these  causes  will  give  rise  to  an  un- 
limited number  of  additional  uniformities.  If  two  causes 
exist  together,  the  effects  of  both  will  exist  together ;  and  if 
many  causes  coexist,  these  causes  will  give  rise  to  new 
effects,  accompanying  or  succeeding  one  another  in  some 
particular  order,  which  order  will  be  invariable  while  the 
causes  continue  to  coexist,  but  no  longer.  The  motion  of 
the  earth  in  a  given  orbit  round  the  sun,  is  a  series  of  changes 
which  follow  one  another  as  antecedents  and  consequents, 


154  COSMIC  FIIILOSOFHi:  [pt.  t 

and  will  continue  to  do  so  while  the  sun's  attraction,  and  the 
force  with  which  the  earth  tends  to  advance  in  a  direct  line 
through  space,  continue  to  coexist  in  the  same  quantities  as 
at  present.  But  vary  either  of  these  causes,  and  the  unvary- 
ing succession  of  motions  would  cease  to  take  place.  The 
series  of  the  earth's  motions,  therefore,  though  a  case  of 
sequence  invariable  within  the  limits  of  human  experience, 
is  not  a  case  of  causation.  It  is  not  unconditional."  l  July 
does  not  cause  August,  though  it  invariably  precedes  it.  For 
the  sequence  is  conditioned  by  the  coexistence  of  a  given 
ratio  bei  *veen  the  solar  gravitation  and  the  earth's  tangential 
momentum,  with  a  given  inclination  of  the  earth's  axis  of 
rotation  to  the  plane  of  its  orbit.  Vary  either  of  these 
factors,  which  are  the  real  causes  of  the  seasons,  and  the 
hitherto  invariable  sequence  between  July  and  August  will 
be  altered. 

Causation  may  therefore  be  defined  as  the  unconditional 
invariable  sequence  of  one  event,  or  con  unence  of  events, 
upon  another ;  and  this  is  all  that  is  given  in  the  pheno- 
menon. But  metaphysics  is  not  content  with  this  conception 
of  Cause.  It  prefers  to  regard  causation  as  a  kind  of  con- 
straint by  which  the  antecedent  event  obliges  the  consequent 
event  to  follow  it.  It  postulates  a  hidden  power,  an  occulta 
vis,  in  the  cause,  which  operates  as  an  invincible  nexus 
between  it  and  the  effect.  And  it  is  by  virtue  of  the  exer- 
tion of  this  occult  energy  that  cause,  as  formulated  by  meta- 
physics, is  called  Efficient  Cause,  in  distinction  from  the  only 
cause  known  to  science, — the  unconditional  invariable  ante- 
cedent, which  may  be  termed  Phenomenal  Cause. 

This  explanation  bears  the  distinctive  marks  of  a  meta- 
physical hypothesis,  as  enumerated  in  the  preceding  chapter. 
To  the  elements  of  sequence,  invariableness  and  uncondi- 
tioaalness  embraced  in  the  scientific  explanation,  it  superadds 
an  occulta  vis,  an  element  which  is  not  given  in  the  pheno- 
*  Mill,  System  of  Logic,  6th  edit.  vol.  i.  pp.  379-381. 


vs.  vi.]  CAUSATION.  155 

inenon.  No  one  pretends  tliat  we  can  actually  cognize  this 
occulta  vis.  The  deepest  analysis  of  our  experience  of  the  act 
of  causation  will  yield  no  such  element.  Viewed  under  its 
subjective  aspect,  our  knowledge  of  causation  amounts  simply 
to  this, — that  an  experience  of  certain  invariable  sequences 
among  phenomena  has  wrought  in  us  a  set  of  corresponding 
indissolubly  coherent  sequences  among  our  states  of  con- 
sciousness ;  so  that  whenever  the  state  of  consciousness 
answering  to  the  cause  arises,  the  state  of  consciousness 
answering  to  the  effect  inevitably  follows.  But  answering  to 
the  occulta  vis  we  have  no  state  of  consciousness  whatever. 

Moreover  the  hypothesis  of  an  occulta  vis,  like  so  many 
other  metaphysical  hypotheses,  straightway  lands  us  in  an 
impossibility  of  thought.  The  proposition  that  the  cause 
constrains  the  effect  to  follow,  is  an  unthinkable  proposition  ; 
since  it  requires  us  to  conceive  the  action  of  matter  upon 
matter,  which,  as  we  saw  in  our  first  chapter,  we  can  in 
nowise  do.  As  was  there  pointed  out,  neither  by  the  artifice 
of  an  intermolecular  ether  or  of  centres  of  attractive  and 
repulsive  force,  nor  by  any  other  imaginable  artifice,  can  we 
truly  conceive  one  particle  of  matter  acting  upon  another. 
What  we  do  know  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  what  is  given 
in  consciousness,  namely,  that  certain  coexistences  invariably 
precede  or  follow  certain  other  coexistences.  That  matter  as 
objectively  existing  may  exert  upon  matter  some  constrain- 
ing power  which,  as  for  ever  unknowable  by  us,  may  be  called 
an  occulta  vis,  I  readily  grant.  Thought  is  not  the  measure 
of  things,  and  it  was  therefore  unphilosophical  in  Hume  to 
deny  the  existence  of  any  such  unknown  power.  Things 
may  exist,  in  heaven  and  on  earth,  which  are  neither  dreamt 
of  in  our  philosophy  nor  conceivable  by  our  intelligence. 
Respecting  the  external  reality  we  say  nothing :  we  only 
affirm  that  no  such  occulta  vis  is  given  in  the  phenomenon 
of  causation.  Any  hypothesis  which  postulates  such  an 
unknown  element  as  a  means  of  explaining  the  phenomenon 


186  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt  I 

is  un verifiable  and,  as  such,  science  cannot  admit  it,  nor  can 
our  Cosmic  Philosophy  admit  it. 

Nevertheless  the  belief  that  causation  implies  something 
more  than  mere  invariability  of  sequence,  has  been  a  persist- 
ent belief;  and  as  such,  it  is  a  fact  which  philosophy  is 
required  to  account  for.  Its  explanation  will  not  be  dillicult 
if  we  look  to  the  source  from  which  our  notion  of  Power  is 
derived.  That  source  is  the  peculiar  class  of  states  of  con- 
sciousness which  accompany  our  voluntary  actions.  Part  of 
our  notion  of  Power  consists  in  our  consciousness  of  an 
ability  to  generate  certain  muscular  sequences  by  means  of 
an  act  of  volition ;  and  this  amounts  to  no  more  than  an 
expectation  that  the  antecedent,  volition,  will  be  followed  by 
the  consequent,  muscular  movement.  But  the  other  part  of 
our  notion  of  Power  is  derived  from  the  sense  of  effort  which 
invariably  accompanies  our  muscular  actions.  Every  such 
action  "  has  to  contend  against  resistance,  either  that  of  an 
outward  object  or  the  mere  friction  and  weight  of  the  moving 
organ ;  every  voluntary  motion  is  consequently  attended  by 
the  muscular  sensation  of  fatigue.  Effort,  considered  as  an 
accompaniment  of  action  upon  the  outward  world,  means 
nothing  to  us  but  those  muscular  sensations."  1  Here,  then, 
is  the  shape  of  our  primitive  conception  of  Power  ;  the  con- 
sciousness of  volition,  accompanied  by  the  conscious  sensa- 
tion of  effort  overcoming  resistance,  and  the  conscious  expec- 
tation of  a  consequent  muscular  movement.  Now,  by  the 
very  relativity  of  our  thinking,  as  will  be  shown  more  fully 
in  the  next  chapter,  we  are  compelled  to  formulate  our  con- 
ception of  the  Power  which  is  manifested  in  the  sequence  of 
external  phenomena,  in  terms  of  that  Power  which  is  alone 
directly  known  to  us  in  consciousness.  Hence,  when  we  see 
one  object  moved  by  another,  we  conceive  the  impelling 
object  as  putting  forth  effort  and  overcoming  the  inertia  of 
the  impelled  object.  Though  we  no  longer,  like  some  cb.il- 
1  Mill,  Examination  of  Hamilton's  Philosophy,  vol.  ii.  p.  47. 


en.  vi. j  CAUSATION.  157 

dren  and  all  savages,  regard  this  as  a  conscious  effort, 
attended  by  volition,  we  still  conceive  it  as  an  effort  attended 
by  resistance.  And  from  this  anthropomorphism  of  thought 
are  derived  two  closely  related,  though  apparently  incompa- 
tible, metaphysical  theories  5  the  theory  that  matter,  regarded 
as  a  cause,  is  endowed  with  an  occulta  vis  ;  and  the  theory 
that  matter,  regarded  as  an  effect,  can  move  only  under  con- 
straint from  without. 

Such  is  the  origin  of  our  conception  of  power  in  causation. 
Yet  that  the  conception,  as  thus  formulated,  cannot  corre- 
spond to  the  external  reality,  is  a  truth  so  obvious,  at  the 
present  stage  of  our  discussion,  as  hardly  to  need  pointing 
out.  It  is  enough  to  remark  that  since  effort,  as  known  to 
us,  is  only  an  affection  of  our  consciousness,  we  cannot 
conceive  the  wind  which  overturns  a  tree  as  exerting  effort, 
unless  we  mentally  endow  the  wind  with  consciousness. 
The  primitive  man  did  not  scruple  at  this ;  to  him  the  Wind 
was  a  superhuman  person.  We,  who  have  outgrown  fetishism, 
must  take  the  other  horn  of  the  dilemma,  and  admit  that 
whatever  may  be  the  force  which  the  wind  exerts,  it  cannot 
be  the  force  which  we  know  as  effort.  By  this  alternative 
difficulty  we  may  recognize  the  fact  that  we  have  here  again 
come  face  to  face  with  the  Unknowable.  What  the  process 
of  causation  is  in'  itself  we  cannot  know.  We  can  know  it 
only  as  it  is  presented  to  our  consciousness,  as  the  uncon- 
ditional invariable  sequence  of  events. 

Our  account  of  causation  would  not  be  complete  without 
some  mention  of  an  attempt  which  has  again  been  made,  of  late 
years,  to  pass  beyond  the  limits  of  intelligence,  and  cognize 
the  external  process  in  itself.  This  attempt,  based  upon  an 
imperfect  apprehension  of  the  foregoing  analysis,  starts  with 
the  assertion  that  in  our  primitive  consciousness  of  Power 
we  have  a  true  cognition  of  an  Efficient  Cause.  According 
to  this  doctrine,  the  expectation  that  effort  will  overcome 
resistance  and  cause  motion  is  a  bit  of  d  priori  knowledg« 


168  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [rr.  l 

not  given  in  experience.  In  our  consciousness  of  effort  we 
have  direct  knowledge  of  the  causal  nexus  between  the  ante- 
cedent, volition,  and  the  consequent,  muscular  contraction  : 
volition  is  therefore  known  to  us  as  an  efficient  cause  of  one 
kind  of  actions ;  and  hence  we  must  infer  that  it  is  the  sole 
efficient  cause  of  all  kinds  of  actions.  Matter  is  absolutely 
inert :  it  is  inconceivable  that  matter  should  act  upon  matter, 
but  it  is  conceivable  that  mind  should  act  upon  matter;  and 
therefore  all  phenomena  which  are  not  the  direct  results 
of  human  or  animal  will,  are  the  direct  results  of  divine  will. 
Such  is  the  so-called  Volitional  Theory  of  Causation. 

With  the  theistic  implications  of  this  doctrine  I  shall  deal 
in  a  future  chapter.  At  present  we  are  concerned  only  with 
its  psychological  basis.  And  first  we  may  observe  that  those 
who  assert  the  action  of  mind  upon  matter  to  be  conceivable, 
appear  to  have  forgotten  the  great  difficulty  under  which 
metaphysics  laboured  during  the  seventeenth  century.  To 
Leibnitz  and  the  Cartesians  the  action  of  mind  upon  matter 
was  the  thing  inconceivable  above  all  others,  to  account  for 
which  two  theories  were  framed,  among  the  most  remarkable 
in  the  annals  of  metaphysics.  These  are,  the  doctrine  of 
Occasional  Causes,  expounded  by  the  Cartesian  Malebranche, 
and  the  doctrine  of  Pre-established  Harmony,  expounded  by 
Leibnitz,  who  is  said  to  have  plagiarized  it  from  Spinoza. 
The  Cartesians  held  it  to  be  inconceivable,  and  therefore  (on 
the  subjective  method)  impossible,  that  thoughts  or  feelings 
in  the  mind  should  produce  movements  in  the  body;  and 
consequently  they  regarded  the  concurrence  of  mental  and 
material  facts  "  as  mere  Occasions  on  which  the  real  agent, 
God,  thought  fit  to  exert  his  power  as  a  Cause."  So  that, 
when  you  will  to  raise  your  arm,  God  interposes  and  lifts  the 
arm  for  you ;  and  he  does  this,  not  as  a  Being  endowed  with 
volition,  but  as  an  omnipotent  Being,  capable  of  working  a 
miracle.  To  Leibnitz  this  seemed  an  unworthy  view  of 
divine  action.     He  preferred  to  regard  the  entire  series  of 


ch.  vi.]  CAUSATION.  159 

volitions  and  the  entire  series  of  apparently  consequent  mus- 
cular motions  as  independent  series,  pre-established  in  har- 
mony with  each  other  by  the  contrivance  of  the  Deity  from 
a  time  preceding  the  commencement  of  the  world.  So  that, 
when  you  will  to  raise  your  arm,  the  arm  moves,  because  God 
in  the  past  eternity  constructed  the  series  of  your  volitions 
and  the  series  of  your  motions  like  two  clocks  which  accu- 
rately correspond  to  each  other  in  their  rates  of  ticking. 

Such  theories  as  these  can,  of  course,  be  neither  proved  nor 
disproved.  They  are  cited  as  interesting  specimens  of  the 
manner  in  which  human  speculation  attempts  to  grapple 
with  realities  which  lie  beyond  its  reach  ;  but,  as  being  un- 
verifiable,  our  philosophy  cannot  recognize  them  as  legiti- 
mate hypotheses.  Coupling  them  with  the  Volitional  Theory, 
the  result  is  mutual  destruction.  In  point  of  fact,  we  are  no 
more  directly  cognizant  of  the  action  of  mind  upon  matter 
than  we  are  directly  cognizant  of  the  action  of  matter  upon 
matter.  "  Our  will  causes  our  bodily  actions  in  the  same 
sense  (and  in  no  other)  in  which  cold  causes  ice,  or  a  spark 
causes  an  explosion  of  gunpowder."  The  antecedent,  volition, 
and  the  subsequent,  muscular  movement,  are  subjects  of  con- 
sciousness. But  the  relation  of  invariable  sequence  between 
them  is  known  by  experience,  just  as  we  know  any  other 
relation  of  sequence.  As  Mr.  Mill  observes,  it  cannot  be 
admitted  "that  our  consciousness  of  the  volition  contains  in 
itself  any  d  priori  knowledge  that  the  muscular  motion  will 
follow.  If  our  nerves  of  motion  were  paralyzed,  or  our 
muscles  stiff  and  inflexible,  and  had  been  so  all  our  lives, 
there  is  no  ground  for  supposing  that  we  should  ever  (unless 
by  information  from  other  people)  have  known  anything  of 
volition  as  a  physical  power,  or  been  conscious  of  any 
tendency  in  feelings  of  our  mind  to  produce  motions  of  our 
body,  or  of  other  bodies."1  In  such  case  we  might  still 
have  had   a  sensation,  like   that  which  we   now  term  the 

1  System  of  Logic,  6th  edit.  vol.  i.  p.  391. 


160  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  i. 

"consciousness  of  effort,"  but  we  should  have  known  it 
merely  as  "a  feeling  of  uneasiness,  accompanying  our  feel- 
ings of  desire."  As  Sir  William  Hamilton  acutely  observes, 
the  Volitional  Theory  "  is  refuted  by  the  consideration,  that 
between  the  overt  act  of  corporeal  movement  of  which  we  are 
cognizant,  and  the  internal  act  of  mental  determination  of 
which  we  are  also  cognizant,  there  intervenes  a  numerous 
series  of  intermediate  agencies  of  which  we  have  no  [direct] 
knowledge;  and,  consequently,  that  we  can  have  no  con- 
sciousness of  any  causal  connection  between  the  extreme 
links  of  this  chain,  the  volition  to  move  and  the  limb  moving, 
as  this  hypothesis  asserts.  No  one  is  immediately  conscious,  for 
example,  of  moving  his  arm  through  his  volition.  Previously 
to  this  ultimate  movement,  muscles,  nerves,  a  multitude  of 
solid  and  fluid  parts,  must  be  set  in  motion  by  the  will,  but 
of  this  motion,  we  know,  from  consciousness,  absolutely 
nothing.  A  person  struck  with  paralysis  is  conscious  of  no 
inability  in  his  limb  to  fulfil  the  determinations  of  his  will ; 
and  it  is  only  after  having  willed,  and  finding  that  his  limbs 
do  not  obey  his  volition,  that  he  learns  by  this  experience, 
that  the  external  movement  does  not  follow  the  internal  act. 
But  as  the  paralytic  learns  after  the  volition  that  his  limbs 
do  not  obey  his  mind,  so  it  is  only  after  volition  that  the 
man  in  health  learns  that  his  limbs  do  obey  the  mandates  of 
his  will."  * 

To  this  crushing  refutation  it  may  be  added  that  even  if 
volition  were  the  efficient  cause  of  our  own  movements,  as  we 
admit  it  to  be  the  phenomenal  cause,  it  would  not  follow  that 
it  is  the  cause  of  anything  else.  As  the  passage  just  cited 
from  Hamilton  shows,  the  only  direct  effect  which  volition  can 
be  known  to  produce,  is  nervo-muscular  action, — a  very  excep- 
tional, peculiarly  animal,  phenomenon.  And  yet,  "  because 
this  is  the  only  cause  of  which  we  are  conscious,  being  the 

1  Lectures  on  Metaphysics,  Lect.  39  ;  see  also  Dissertations  to  Reid,  pp.  866, 
867. 


ch.  vi.]  CAUSATION.  161 

only  one  of  which  in  the  nature  of  the  case  we  can  he  con- 
scious, since  it  is  the  only  one  which  exists  within  our- 
selves,"— we  are  asked  to  assume,  without  further  evidence, 
that  throughout  the  infinitely  multitudinous  and  hetero- 
geneous phenomena  of  nature,  no  other  kind  of  cause  exists ! 
A  more  amazing  example  of  the  audacity  of  the  subjective 
method  could  hardly  be  found.  In  Mr.  Mill's  forcible  lan- 
guage, "  the  supporters  of  the  Volition  Theory  ask  us  to  infer 
that  volition  causes  everything,  for  no  reason  except  that  it 
causes  one  particular  thing ;  although  that  one  phenomenon; 
far  from  being  a  type  of  all  natural  phenomena,  is  eminently 
peculiar ;  its  laws  bearing  scarcely  any  resemblance  to  those 
of  any  other  phenomenon,  whether  of  inorganic  or  of  organic 
nature." 

Thus  ends  in  signal  failure  the  last  of  the  many  attempts 
which  have  been  made  to  invalidate  the  principle  of  the 
Kelativity  of  Knowledge.  Start  from  what  point  we  may, 
we  must  sooner  or  later  reach  the  periphery  of  the  circle 
which  includes  all  that  is  knowable.  Every  attempt  to 
overstep  this  periphery,  and  gain  a  sure  foothold  in  the  dark 
region  beyond,  must  result  in  utter  discomfiture.  The  in- 
quiry into  the  origin  and  contents  of  our  belief  in  Causation 
reveals,  more  clearly  than  ever,  our  impotence  to  deal  with 
objective  powers  and  existences.  The  attempt  to  detect  the 
occulta  vis  or  hidden  energy  in  the  act  of  causation,  is  but  the 
fruitless  attempt  to  bind  in  the  chains  of  some  thinkable 
formula  that  universal  Protean  Power,  of  whose  multitudinous 
effects  we  are  cognizant  in  the  sequence  of  phenomena,  but 
which  in  its  secret  nature  must  ever  mockingly  elude  our 
grasp. 


VOL.!  M 


CHAPTER  VIZ 

ANTHROPOMORPHISM   AND   COSMISM. 

The  "body  of  philosophic  truth  contained  in  the  six  fore- 
going chapters  can  in  nowise  claim  Auguste  Comte  as  its 
originator.  The  doctrine  of  the  relativity  of  knowledge  has, 
as  we  have  seen,  been  accepted  more  or  less  unreservedly  by 
most  of  the  thinkers  of  the  last  two  centuries ;  and  has, 
indeed,  never  been-  wholly  lost  sight  of  in  philosophic  specula- 
tion since  the  time  of  Protagoras.  Nevertheless  the  doctrine 
has  been  variously  interpreted  by  different  philosophers ; 
anl  we  have  seen  that  the  Positivist  interpretation  of  it, 
propounded  by  Littre'  and  Mill,  is  essentially  different  from 
the  interpretation  given  by  Mr.  Spencer,  and  here  adopted. 
Again,  the  doctrine  that  all  knowledge  is  the  product  of  the 
intercourse  between  the  sentient  organism  and  its  environ- 
ment is  a  doctrine  which  has  been  held  by  more  than  half 
the  philosophic  world  since  the  time  of  Locke.  The  doctrine 
that  causation,  as  cognizable  by  us,  is  merely  unconditional 
invariable  sequence  was  the  doctrine  of  Hume,  Brown,  and 
James  Mill ;  and  for  its  further  defence  and  elucidation  we 
are  indebted,  not  to  Comte,  but  to  John  Stuart  Mil].  The 
test  of  truth,  as  stated  in  the  third  chapter  of  this  work,  wa3 
just  as  much  or  just  as  little  postulated  by  Comte  as  by 
preceding  thinkers  :  it  was  first  definitely  propounded  by  Mr. 
Spencer,  and  its  validity  has  been  repeatedly  challenged  by 


ch.  vii.]      ANTHROPOMORPHISM  AND  COSMISM.  163 

Mr.  Mill, — the  most  eminent  psychologist  who  has  yet  de- 
clared his  assent  to  all  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  Positivism. 
Nor  was  Comte  the  first  to  insist  upon  the  exclusive  use  of 
the  objective  method  in  all  departments  of  research ;  for 
Bacon,  as  we  have  seen,  had  enunciated  this  precept  with 
equal  vigour  and  impressiveness,  though  with  less  command- 
ing scientific  authority.  It  is  to  be  regretted,  moreover,  that 
we  cannot  even  accredit  Comte  with  unflinching  loyalty  to 
this  principle.  Not  only  have  we  seen  him  openly  disavow- 
ing it,  but  we  have  been  called  upon  to  contemplate,  in 
his  "Subjective  Synthesis,"  the  most  lamentable  instance 
afforded  by  history  of  the  wonderful  extent  of  aberration 
possible  to  the  intellectus  sibi  permissus. 

All  the  above  truths,  then,  so  far  as  they  were  understood 
by  Comte,  were  accepted  by  him  as  he  found  them.  He  did 
not  originate  them,  nor  did  he  place  them,  from  the  psycho- 
logical point  of  view,  upon  any  surer  footing  than  they  had 
occupied  before.  That  psychological  analysis,  in  the  light  of 
which  they  have  been  here  exhibited,  and  by  which  alone 
they  can  be  securely  established,  Comte  unreservedly  and 
disdainfully  repudiated.  Asserting  as  he  did  that  all  direct 
observation  and  comparison  of  states  of  consciousness  is  vain 
and  nugatory,  Comte  could  only  accept  the  doctrine  of  the 
relativity  of  knowledge  and  its  corollaries  as  empirical 
doctrines.  We  shall  frequently  have  occasion  to  remark 
upon  the  vulnerable  condition  in  which  the  Positive  Philo- 
sophy is  left,  owing  to  this  disregard  of  psychology.  Here 
indeed  was  Comte's  weak  point,  as  it  is  Mr.  Spencer's  strong 
point.  As  an  observer  and  interpreter  of  states  of  conscious- 
ness Comte  was  below  mediocrity — hardly  fit  to  be  ranked 
with  Cousin  or  Dugald  Stewart ;  while,  in  power  of  psycho- 
logical analysis,  Herbert  Spencer  has  been  surpassed  by  no 
thinker  that  ever  lived,  and  has  been  rivalled  only  by  Aris- 
totle, Berkeley,  and  Kant.  And  it  is  accordingly  not  Comte, 
but  Spencer,  who  has  wrought  the  truths  above  enumerated 

M  2 


164  COSMIC  miLOSOPEY.  \pt.  i. 

into  an  organized  body  of  doctrine  resting  upon  an  indestruc- 
tible basis  in  consciousness. 

Since,  then,  the  foundations  of  the  scientific  philosophy  here 
expounded  were  laid  down  by  Bacon,  Locke,  Hume,  and 
Kant,  and  since  that  philosophy  has  first  been  presented  as 
a  coherent  body  of  uuiversal  truth  by  Herbert  Spencer,  it  is 
clear  that  there  exists  a  very  considerable  body  of  philosophic 
doctrine,  which  is  uot  metaphysical  or  theological,  and  which, 
nevertheless,  does  not  owe  its  existence  to  Comte.     It  is  clear 
that  we  cannot  concede  to  Comte  such  a  monopoly  of  the  scien- 
tific method  of  philosophizing  that  all  scientific  philosophy  must 
be  designated  as  Positivism.     It  does  not  yet  appear,  from 
the  foregoing  summary,  that  scientific  philosophy  owes  any- 
thing whatever  to  Comte.    Yet  if  we  were  to  rest  in  any  such 
conclusion  as  this,  we  should  be  seriously  in  error.     It  is  not 
to  be  gainsaid  that  the  speculations  of  Comte  have  played  a 
most  conspicuous  and  important  part  in  directing  the  course 
of  philosophic  inquiry  in  the  nineteenth  century.    A  thinker  of 
Comte's  calibre  does  not  live  and  write  to  no  purpose.     And 
while  it  will  appear,  in  the  course  of  the  following  discussion, 
that  the  peculiar  theories  of  Comte  are  such  as  philosophy 
cannot  possibly  adopt,  it  will  also  appear  that  these  theories, 
besides  containing  a  germ  of  truth,  are  instructive  even  in 
their  erroneousness    Even  while  demonstrating  that  we  cannot, 
without  grievously  retrograding,  consider  ourselves  followers 
of  Comte  or  advocates  of  the  Positive  Philosophy,  we  must 
at  the  same  time  freely  admit  our  indebtedness  to  Comte  for 
sundry  suggestions  of  the   highest   importance.     We   must 
not  refuse  to  Comte  the  meed  of  acknowledgment  which  we 
should  have  no  hesitation  in  giving  to  Kant,  or  Spinoza,  or 
even  to  Hegel,  if  occasion  were  to  be  offered.     Least  of  all 
can  we  acquiesce  in  Prof.  Huxley's  opinion  that  there  is 
nothing  whatever  of  any  value  in  the  philosophy  of  Comte 
which  is  not  also  to  be  found  in  the  philosophy  of  Hume. 
The  point  is  one  of  such  importance  in  itself,  and    is  so 


ch.  vii.]      ANTHROPOMORPHISM  AND  COSMISM.  165 

narrowly  implicated  with  much  of  the  following  discussion, 
that  I  must  devote  a  few  moments  to  the  elucidation  of  it, 
before  entering  upon  the  special  subject  of  this  chapter. 

In  spite  of  his  feebleness  as  a  psychologist,  and  his 
numerous  unphilosophic  idiosyncrasies  of  temperament, 
Comte  was  possessed  of  one  mental  endowment,  most 
brilliant  at  any  time,  and  most  useful  to  a  thinker  living 
in  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth  century.  It  is  by  virtue 
of  this  mental  endowment  that  Comte  is  chiefly  dis- 
tinguished fiom  the  thinkers  of  the  eighteenth  century  ;  and 
it  was  by  dint  of  this  that  he  succeeded  in  making  himself, 
more  conspicuously  than  any  of  those  thinkers,  the  herald, 
though  not  the  inaugurator,  of  modern  philosophy.  I  refer 
to  that  historic  sense, — that  almost  unique  power  of  invest- 
ing himself,  so  to  speak,  with  the  mental  habits  of  bygone 
generations,  and  of  entering  into  the  very  spirit  which  dic- 
tated past  events  and  obsolete  modes  of  thinking, — which 
makes  the  fifth  volume  of  Comte's  great  work  one  of  the 
most  valuable  and  suggestive  treatises  ever  written  concern- 
ing the  concrete  phenomena  of  history.  Many  thinkers 
before  Comte  had  conceived  the  idea  of  a  philosophy  of 
history — such  were  Machiavelli,  Vico,  Montesquieu,  Voltaire, 
Turgot,  and  Condorcet ;  but  none  of  these  great  men 
possessed  in  so  high  a  degree  the  historic  sense  necessary  for 
the  realization  of  such  a  project.  It  is  the  influence  of  this 
historic  sense  of  Comte,  more  or  less  consciously  felt,  which 
lends  a  great  part  of  their  value  to  many  of  the  most  striking 
historical  treatises  of  our  time, — to  the  colossal  works  of 
Grote  and  Mommsen,  as  well  as  to  the  monographs  of 
Mr.  Bryce,  Dr.  Bridges,  M.  Taine,  M.  Benan,  and  the  author 
of  "  Ecce  Homo."  It  was  the  lack  of  such  a  historic  sense, 
and  the  adherence  to  the  old  disposition  to  examine  past 
(  vents  through  the  refracting  medium  of  recently  acquired 
habits  of  thought,  which  constituted  Mr.  Buckle's  chief 
source  of  failure  as  a  philosophic  historian. 


166  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

Now  I  say  it  was  by  dint  of  this  rare  historic  sense  that 
Comte  succeeded  in  taking  a  step  which  was  not  only  an 
important  advance,  but  in  many  respects  a  veritable  revolu- 
tion in  philosophy.  It  was  Cornte  who  first  brought  into 
prominence  the  idea  of  a  philosophy  of  history  which  .should 
also  be  the  history  of  philosophy.  The  thinkers  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  with  Hume  at  their  head,  had  studied 
systems  of  philosophy,  much  as  anatomists  before  Cuvier 
had  studied  animal  and  vegetal  organisms,  as  detached  in 
dependent  existences,  without  regard  to  their  past  or  future. 
But  to  Comte  is  due  the  grand  and  luminous  conception  of  a 
historic  development  of  thought,  from  the  earliest  to  the 
latest  ages  of  human  speculative  activity.  Just  as  Cuvier 
proclaimed  it  irrational  to  study  existing  organisms  without 
constant  reference  to  extinct  organisms,  Comte  pronounced 
it  irrational  to  coordinate  existing  opinions,  save  in  their  rela- 
tion to  past  opinions.  He  grasped,  as  it  had  not  before  been 
grasped,  the  truth  that  each  body  of  doctrines  has  its  root  in 
some  ancestral  body  of  doctrines  ;  that  throughout  the  whole 
of  man's  speculative  career  there  has  been  going  on  an  Evolu- 
tion of  Philosophy,  of  which  the  thorough  recognition  of  the 
relativity  of  knowledge  must  be  the  inevitable  outcome. 
Herein  lay  the  originality  of  Comte  ;  an  originality  of  which 
it  is  hardly  correct  to  say  that  Prof.  Huxley  disparages  it, 
since  he  passes  over  it  in  silence  and  does  not  appear  to  have 
discerned  it.  Yet  as  to  the  originality  of  this  conception, 
there  can  be  no  question  whatever.  Neither  Hume  nor  any 
other  thinker  of  the  eighteenth  century  had  compassed  it. 
Lessing,  indeed, — a  man  far  in  advance  of  his  age, — had,  in 
his  work  entitled  "  The  Education  of  the  Human  Eace," 
sketched  a  theory  of  the  evolution  of  speculative  ideas ;  but 
it  was  only  imperfectly,  if  at  all,  that  he  comprehended  the 
nature  and  direction  of  that  evolution.  He  may  be  regarded 
as  a  forerunner,  but  not  as  an  anticipator,  of  Comte. 

As  to  the  importance  of  Comte's  conception  there  can  be 


ch.  vii.]      ANTHROPOMORPHISM  AND  COSMISM.  167 

no  more  question  than  as  to  its  originality.  It  constituted 
a  revolution  in  philosophy  as  thorough  and  wide-reaching  as 
the  revolution  which  Cuvier,  by  fusing  together  the  studies 
of  comparative  anatomy  and  palaeontology,  brought  about  in 
biology.  In  working  out  the  details  of  his  conception, 
Comte,  like  Cuvier,  fell  into  many  grave  errors  :  but  the 
great  thing  was,  to  have  framed  the  conception.  As  Mr. 
Spencer  wisely  and  wittily  observes,  "Inquiring  into  the 
pedigree  of  an  idea  is  not  a  bad  means  of  estimating  its 
value."  Comte's  conception  of  the  evolution  of  philosophy 
obliges  us  henceforth  to  test  ideas  by  their  pedigree, — to 
trace  their  origin  in  the  employment  of  the  subjective  or  of 
the  objective  method.  Surely  it  was  no  small  achievement 
to  bring  together  the  truths  which  Locke  and  Hume  and 
others  had  laboriously  detected,  and  to  exhibit  them  as  the 
necessary  outcome  of  twenty-five  centuries  of  speculative 
activity.  For  by  this  proceeding  the  truths  in  question  were 
at  least  historically  justified.  And  although  the  psycho- 
logical justification  of  thein  had  to  be  left  for  Mr.  Spencer, 
although  it  can  be  amply  proved  that  Comte,  in  his  ignorance 
of  psychology,  seriously  misinterpreted  the  import  of  these 
truths,  that  is  no  reason  why  we  should  hesitate  to  acknow- 
ledge the  greatness  of  his  achievement.  The  doctrine  of 
which  Cuvier  was  the  most  eminent  upholder — the  doctrine 
of  fixity  of  species — is  one  which  modern  biology  rejects, 
j'ust  as  modern  philosophy  rejects  the  doctrines  especially 
characteristic  of  Comte's  system.  Nevertheless,  as  we  admit 
of  Cuvier,  that  his  innovation,  in  studying  all  existing 
organisms  with  reference  to  past  organisms,  amounted  to  a 
revolution  in  the  attitude  of  biology  ;  so  we  must  admit  of 
Comte,  that  his  innovation,  in  studying  all  phases  of  thought 
with  reference  to  preceding  phases  of  thought,  amounted  to 
a  revolution  in  the  attitude  of  philosophy.  Yet  the  latter 
admission  no  more  makes  us  followers  of  Comte  than  the 
former  admission  makes  us  followers  of  Cuvier. 


168  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  t. 

The  significance  of  this  illustration  will  "become  still  more 
apparent  as  we  proceed  to  examine  the  attempt  of  Comtc  to 
describe  the  course  of  philosophic  evolution  as  actually  shown 
in  history.  According  to  Comte  there  are  three  modes  of 
philosophizing — the  Theological,  the  Metaphysical,  and  the 
Positive.  The  first  two  modes  are  characterized  by  the 
attempt  to  formulate  the  unknowable  Cause  or  causes  of 
phenomena ;  but  Positivism,  recognizing  the  futility  of  all 
such  attempts,  ignores  the  unknowable  Cause  or  causes  of 
phenomena.  Positivism  limits  itself  to  ascertaining  uni- 
formities of  coexistence  and  sequence  among  phenomena. 
Metaphysics  and  Theology  superadd  investigations  concern- 
ing the  nature  of  the  hidden  efficient  cause  of  the  pheno- 
mena ;  but  Metaphysics  regards  this  cause  as  a  mere  abstract 
entity,  while  Theology  regards  it  as  endowed  with  volition 
and  intelligence.  There  are  three  successive  stages  of 
theology ;  Fetishism,  in  which  phenomena,  being  not  yet 
generalized,  are  regarded  each  as  endowed  with  a  volition  of 
its  own;  Polytheism,  in  which  generalized  groups  of  pheno- 
mena are  regarded  each  as  under  the  control  of  a  presiding 
deity  endowed  with  volition ;  and  Monotheism,  which  arises 
when  men  have  gained  the  conception  of  a  Universe,  and 
have  generalized  the  causes  of  phenomena  until  they  have 
arrived  at  the  notion  of  a  sinole  First  Cause.  According  to 
Comte,  philosophy  began  in  fetishism;  as  science  progres- 
sively arranged  phenomena  in  groups  of  wider  and  wider 
generality,  philosophy  passed  through  polytheism  into  mono- 
theism ;  and  as  with  its  increasing  generality,  the  primitive 
anthropomorphic  conception  of  cause  faded  away,  becoming 
replaced  by  the  conception  of  an  unknowable  Cause  mani- 
fested in  phenomena,  philosophy  became  metaphysical : 
finally,  when  the  unknowable  Cause  is  wholly  ignored,  and 
no  account  is  taken  of  anything  beyond  the  immediate  con- 
tent of  observed  facts,  philosophy  becomes  positive.  For 
while  Comte  did  not  follow  Hume  and  Berkeley  to  U.e  «y« 


ck.  vn.]      ANTHROPOMORPHISM  AND  VOSMISM.  169 

tent  of  explicitly  or  implicitly  denying  the  independent 
existence  of  a  Power  manifested  in  phenomena;  while  he 
would,  if  consistent  with  his  own  principles,  have  regarded 
such  a  denial  as  an  overstepping  of  the  limits  within  which 
positive  speculation  should  be  confined ;  it  is  none  the  less 
true  that  he  ignored  the  existence  of  any  such  Power  as 
completely  as  if  he  had  held  the  extreme  idealist  doctrine 
which  pronounces  it  a  mere  figment  of  the  imagination.  So 
utterly  foreign  to  Positivism  is  Mr.  Spencer's  doctrine  of 
the  Unknowable,  that  M.  Littre,  who  is  of  all  living  men 
the  most  thoroughly  and  consistently  a  Positivist,  condemns 
it  as  a  baseless  metaphysical  speculation. 

Such  is  the  celebrated  "  Law  of  the  Three  Stages,"  which 
is  regarded  by  Positivists  as  one  of  the  greatest  achieve- 
ments of  the  human  mind,  and  which  impartial  criticism 
must  regard  as  an  achievement  of  sufficient  importance  to 
have  wrought  a  complete  revolution  in  the  attitude  of 
modern  philosophy.  That  it  also  contains  a  large  amount  of 
truth,  as  a  concise  generalization  of  historical  facts,  can  be 
denied  by  no  competent  student  of  history  But,  while 
freely  conceding  all  this,  it  will  appear,  on  a  closer  examina- 
tion, that  the  doctrine  in  question  is  rather  a  foreshadowing 
of  the  true  statement  than  the  true  statement  itself;  and  that 
in  one  all-important  particular  it  is  utterly  inadmissible.  Let 
us  begin  by  inquiring  how  far  the  progress  of  human  thought, 
with  reference  to  the  unknown  Cause  or  causes  of  pheno- 
mena, can  be  regarded  as  divisible  into  stages,  and  in  what 
sense  Comte  really  intended  to  assert  that  there  are  three 
stages.  It  is  important  that  both  these  points  should  be 
determined,  in  order  that  our  conception  of  the  character  of 
ihe  speculative  development  may  be  rendered  sufficiently 
precise,  and  in  order  to  ascertain  how  far  Comte  understood 
that  character. 

Upon  this  point,  as  upon  many  others,  Comte  has  left  on 
record  assertions  which,  if  literally  interpreted,  simply  cancel 


170  COSMIC  I'll  ILOSOPHT.  [vs.*. 

each  other.  At  the  beginning  of  the  "  Philosophic  Positive," 
he  tells  us  that  "  the  mind  employs  successively  in  each  of  its 
researches  three  methods  of  philosophizing,  of  which  the 
character  is  essentially  different  and  even  radically  opposed 
— first  the  theological  method,  then  the  metaphysical,  lastly 
the  positive.  The  theological  system  arrives  at  the  highest  per- 
fection of  which  it  is  susceptible,  when  it  has  substituted  the 
providential  action  of  a  single  Being  for  the  capricious  play 
of  the  innumerable  independent  deities  which  were  primi- 
tively imagined.  Likewise  the  perfection  of  the  metaphysical 
system  consists  in  conceiving,  instead  of  many  particular 
entities,  one  grand  entity,  Nature,  as  the  source  of  all  pheno- 
mena. Finally  the  perfection  of  the  positive  system  would 
be  to  represent  all  observable  phenomena  as  paiticular  cases 
of  a  single  general  fact."  And  hence,  says  Comte,  "these 
three  general  systems  of  conceptions  concerning  the  ensemble 
of  phenomena  mutually  exclude  each  other."  Now  Comte 
elsewhere  maintains  that,  so  far  from  mutually  excluding 
each  other,  the  three  methods  of  philosophizing  have  co- 
existed with  each  other  since  the  dawn  of  speculation ;  and 
that,  in  particular,  the  metaphysical  method  is  merely  a 
modification  of  the  theological  method. 

The  truth  is,  however,  that  the  so-called  "Law  of  the 
Three  Stages"  was  an  empirical  generalization  from  the  facts  of 
history,  and  that,  with  his  customary  indifference  to  psycho- 
logical interpretations,  Comte  did  not  concern  himself  with 
the  character  of  the  mental  processes  involved  in  the 
speculative  progression  which  he  sought  to  formulate.  What 
Comte  really  saw  was,  that  men,  when  they  first  began  to 
speculate  upon  the  phenomena  of  nature,  imagined  behind 
every  phenomenon,  save  possibly  a  few  of  the  most  familiar 
ones,  an  impelling  will,  like  the  human  will ;  that,  as  the 
anthropomorphic  character  of  this  conception  slowly  faded 
away,  it  left  the  conception  of  a  hiddeii  Power  or  powers,  to 
ascertain  the  nature  of  which  was  long  supposed  to  be  the 


OH.  vn.]      ANTHROPOMORPHISM  AND  COSMISM.  171 

legitimate  business  of  philosophy  ;  and  that,  lastly,  with  the 
further  progress  of  thought,  philosophy  must  give  up  the 
attempt  to  ascertain  the  nature  of  this  hidden  Power  oi 
powers,  and  concern  itself  solely  with  coexistences  and 
sequences  among  phenomena.  All  this  is  true  so  far  as  it 
goes,  its  confirmation  being  written  on  every  page  of  history 
Nevertheless,  all  this  is  but  one  side  of  the  truth.  The  truth 
has  another  side,  which  Comte  never  saw,  and  which  no 
writer  of  the  Positivist  school  has  ever  given  any  evidence 
of  discerning.  What  Comte  did  not  see  was,  that  from  first 
to  last  there  is  no  change  in  the  nature  of  the  psychological 
process  ;  and  that,  even  at  the  last,  the  hidden  Power  under- 
lying and  sustaining  the  world  of  phenomena  can  no  more 
be  ignored  than  at  the  beginning.  Let  us  examine  both  these 
points,  and  note  well  their  significance. 

In  the  first  place  there  is  no  change  in  the  nature  of  the 
mental  processes  concerned  in  the  development.  Prom  first 
to  last,  whether  we  give  a  theological,  a  metaphysical,  or  a 
scientific  explanation  of  any  phenomenon,  we  are  interpreting 
it  in  terms  of  consciousness.  To  recur  to  our  old  illustra- 
tion; on  seeing  a  tree  blown  down  by  the  wind,  the  primitive 
man  concludes  that  the  wind  possesses  intelligence  and 
exerts  volition:  he  calls  it  Hermes,  or  Boreas,  or  Orpheus, 
and  erects  to  it  a  temple,  wherein  by  prayer  and  sacrifice  he 
may  avert  its  displeasure.  In  a  later  age  the  wind  is  no 
longer  regarded  as  endowed  with  conscious  volition ;  but  it 
is  still  regarded  as  exerting  effort,  and  overcoming  the  forces 
which  tend  to  keep  the  tree  in  its  place.  Obviously  this  is 
at  bottom  the  same  conception  as  its  predecessor,  save  that  it 
is  less  crudely  anthropomorphic.  Now  in  the  scientific  ex- 
planation, we  omit  also  the  conception  of  a  specific  nisus  or 
effort,  and  regard  the  falling  of  the  tree  as  an  event  invariably 
consequent  upon  the  blowing  of  the  wind  with  a  given 
momentum.  Here,  perhaps,  it  may  seem  that  we  quite  get 
rid  of  every  subjective  or  anthropomorphic  element.     But 


172  COSMIC  I'll  I LOSOPHY.  [pt.  l 

this  is  a  mistake.  The  use  of  the  word  "momentum"  shows 
how  we  are  compelled  to  conci  Lve  the  event  as  a  manifi 
tion  of  force.  We  may  abolish  the  figment  of  a  specific 
occulta,  vis ;  but,  strive  as  we  will,  we  cannot  mentally 
represent  the  event  otherwise  than  as  a  differential  result  oi 
the  excess  of  one  quantum  of  force  over  another  quantum 
of  force.  And  what  do  we  mean  by  force  ?  Our  conception 
of  force  is  nothing  but  a  generalized  abstraction  from  our 
sensations  of  muscular  resistance.  That  such  a  conception 
is  merely  symbolic,  that  it  does  not  truly  represent  the  real 
force  objectively  existing,  I  have  already  shown.  Neverthe- 
less, from  the  relativity  of  our  thought,  such  is  the  only  con- 
ception which  we  can  frame.  Therefore,  I  repeat,  from  first 
to  last,  whether  we  give  a  theological,  a  metaphysical,  or  a 
scientific  explanation  of  any  phenomenon,  we  alike  interpret 
it  in  terms  of  consciousness.  Whether  we  frame  the  crude 
conception  of  an  arbitrary  volition,  or  the  refined  conception 
of  a  uniformly  conditioned  force,  we  must  equally  admit  that 
our  subjective  feelings  are  the  only  materials  with  which 
the  conception  can  be  framed.  The  consciousness  of  force 
remains  dominant  from  first  to  last,  and  can  be  abolished 
only  by  abolishing  consciousness  itself. 

But  now,  in  the  second  place,  this  final  scientific  conception 
of  a  uniformly  conditioned  force  cannot  even  be  framed  save 
by  postulating  an  unconditioned  Power  existing  independently 
of  consciousness,  to  which  no  limit  is  conceivable  in  time  or 
space,  and  of  which  all  phenomena,  as  known  to  us,  are  the 
manifestations.  It  was  demonstrated  above,  in  the  fourth 
chapter,  that  without  postulating  such  an  Absolute  Existence, 
we  can  frame  no  theory  whatever,  either  of  external  or  of 
internal  phenomena,  even  our  proof  of  the  relativity  of 
knowledge  immediately  becoming  nonsense  in  such  case.  It 
was  shown  that  the  existence  of  such  a  Power  independent 
of  us  is  an  element  involved  in  our  consciousness  of  our 
own  existence — is,  in  short,  the  "  obverse  of  our  self-con- 


ch.  vii.]      ANTHROPOMORPHISM  AND  COSMISM.  173 

sciousness."  Thus  the  three  stages  disappear  entirely,  and 
•"he  three  terminal  conceptions  which  are  alleged  as  distinc- 
tively characteristic  of  the  stages  are  seen  to  be  identical. 
The  God  of  the  monotheist,  the  Nature  of  the  metaphysician, 
and  the  Absolute  Being  which  science  is  compelled  to 
postulate,  differ  only  as  symbols  differ  which  stand  for  the 
same  eternal  fact.  If  there  be  any  confusion  still  left 
regarding  this  point,  it  will  be  dispelled  by  the  following 
citation  from  Mr.  Spencer : — 

"  The  progress  of  our  conceptions,  and  of  each  branch  of 
knowledge,  is  from  beginning  to  end  intrinsically  alike.  There 
are  not  three  methods  of  philosophizing  radically  opposed ; 
but  one  method  of  philosophizing  which  remains,  in  essence, 
the  same.  At  first,  and  to  the  last,  the  conceived  causal 
agencies  of  phenomena  have  a  degree  of  generality  cor- 
responding to  the  width  of  the  generalizations  which 
experiences  have  determined ;  and  they  change  just  as 
gradually  as  experiences  accumulate.  The  integration  of 
causal  agencies,  originally  thought  of  as  multitudinous 
and  local,  but  finally  believed  to  be  one  and  universal,  is  a 
process  which  involves  the  passing  through  all  intermediate 
steps  between  these  extremes ;  and  any  appearance  of  stages 
can  be  but  superficial.  Supposed  concrete  and  individual 
causal  agencies  coalesce  in  the  mind  as  fast  as  groups  ot 
phenomena  are  assimilated,  or  seen  to  be  similarly  caused 
Along  with  their  coalescence,  comes  a  greater  extension  of 
their  individualities,  and  a  concomitant  loss  of  distinctness 
in  their  individualities  Gradually,  by  continuance  of  such 
coalescences,  causal  agencies  become,  in  thought,  diffused  and 
indefinite.  And  eventually,  without  any  change  in  the 
nature  of  the  process,  there  is  reached  the  consciousness  of  a 
universal  causal  agency,  which  cannot  be  conceived. 

"As  the  progress  of  thought  is  one,  so  is  the  end  one. 
There  are  not  three  possible  terminal  conceptions  ;  but  only 
a  single  terminal  conception.     When  the  theological  idea  of 


174  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

the  providential  action  of  one  Being  is  developed  to  its 
ultimate  form,  by  the  absorption  of  all  independenl  secondary 
agencies,  it  becomes  the  conception  of  a  Being  immanent  in 
all  phenomena ;  and  the  reduction  of  it  to  this  state  implies 
the  fading-away.  in  thought,  of  all  those  anthropomorphic 
attributes  by  which  the  aboriginal  idea  was  distinguished. 
The  alleged  last  term  of  the  metaphysical  system — the  con- 
ception of  a  single  great  general  entity,  Nature,  as  the  source 
of  all  phenomena — is  a  conception  identical  with  the  previous 
one :  the  consciousness  of  a  single  source  which,  in  coming 
to  be  regarded  as  universal,  ceases  to  be  regarded  as  con- 
ceivable, differs  in  nothing  but  name  from  the  consciousness 
of  one  Being  manifested  in  all  phenomena.  And  similarly, 
that  which  is  described  as  the  ideal  state  of  science — the 
power  to  represent  all  observable  phenomena  as  particular 
cases  of  a  single  general  fact— implies  the  postulating  of 
some  ultimate  Existence  of  which  this  single  fact  is  alleged ; 
and  the  postulating  of  this  ultimate  Existence  involves  a 
state  of  consciousness  indistinguishable  from  the  other  two."  * 
This  completely  unanswerable  statement  exhibits  Mr. 
Spencer's  unrivalled  power  of  psychologic  analysis  in  striking 
contrast  to  the  weakness  under  which  Comte  laboured  from 
his  neglect  of  such  analysis.  And  it  shows  that  Comte's 
conception  of  the  order  of  philosophic  evolution  was  entirely 
inadequate,  and  in  the  most  important  point  entirely  erro- 
neous. It  shows  that  the  fundamental  characteristic  of 
Positive  Philosophy,  as  asserted  by  Comte  and  as  admitted 
by  his  followers,  is  the  non-recognition  of  the  absolute  and 
infinite  Power  which  is  manifested  in  phenomena.  Or,  to 
use  Mr.  Spencer's  words,  the  essential  principle  of  Comte's 
philosophy  is  "  an  avowed  ignoring  of  Cause  altogether.  For 
if  it  is  not,  what  becomes  of  his  alleged  distinction  between  the 
perfection  of  the  positive  system  and  the  perfection  of  the 
metaphysical  system  ?  "     According  to  Comte's  own  definition, 

1  Spencer :  Recent  Discussions,  p.  124. 


en.  vii.]      ANTHROPOMORPHISM  AND  COSMISM.  175 

the  terminal  conception  of  the  metaphysical  system  is  that 
of  a  single  great  Entity  or  Existence  as  the  source  of  all 
phenomena;  and  since  we  have  here  shown  that  this  very 
conception  is  the  final  conception  in  which  science  also  must 
rest,  the  only  possible  step  in  advance  which  can  he  taken  by 
Positivism  is  the  elimination  of  this  conception  altogether. 
Prof.  Huxley  is  thoroughly  justified,  therefore,  in  describing 
the  name  Positivism  as  implying  a  system  of  thought  which 
recognizes  nothing  beyond  the  observed  contents  of  pheno- 
mena: this  description  would  be  acknowledged  as  strictly 
accurate  by  M.  Littre",  and  indeed  expresses  neither  more  nor 
less  than  that  which  Comte  sought  to  express  when  he 
defined  the  perfection  of  the  positive  system  to  be  the  con- 
templation of  all  observable  phenomena  as  particular  cases 
of  a  single  general  fact,  and  omitted  to  add  that  this  single 
fact  must  be  alleged  of  some  Existence  of  which  all  observable 
phenomena  are  manifestations.  The  "  positive "  stage  of 
philosophizing  is,  therefore,  something  which  never  did  exist 
and  which  never  will  exist.  The  "  positive "  method  of 
philosophizing  is  simply  an  impossibility.  The  fundamental 
principle  upon  which  the  Positive  Philosophy  rests  is  the 
refusal  to  affirm  that  of  which  the  affirmation  is  the  funda- 
mental principle  of  all  knowledge,  of  all  science,  and  of  that 
Cosmic  Philosophy  which  is  the  summing  up  of  science. 

Thus,  since  Comte's  positive  stage  must  be  set  aside 
altogether,  and  since  his  metaphysical  stage  and  his  theo- 
logical stage  alike  end  in  positing  Absolute  Existence  as  the 
source  of  phenomenal  existence,  this  being  also  the  funda- 
mental postulate  made  by  science,  the  three  stages  vanish 
altogether.  As  we  saw,  in  our  second  chapter,  that  from 
lowest  to  highest  the  process  of  knowing  is  essentially  one 
and  the  same,  we  now  see  that  from  beginning  to  end  the 
progress  of  that  kind  of  knowledge  which  we  call  philosophy 
is  one  and  the  same.  There  are  not  three  successive  or 
superposed    processes.     There   is   one    continuous    process, 


176  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pp.  i. 

which  (if  I  may  be  allowed  to  invent  a  rather  formidable 
word  in  imitation  of  Coleridge)  is  best  described  as  a  con- 
tinuous process  of  dcanthropomorphizalion,  or  the  stripping 
off  of  the  anthropomorphic  attributes  with  which  primeval 
philosophy  clothed  the  unknown  Power  which  is  manifested 
in  phenomena.  Or,  to  be  still  more  accurate,  we  may  de- 
scribe the  process  of  philosophic  evolution  as  a  continuous 
integration,  in  thought,  of  causal  agencies ;  of  which  process 
the  gradual  deauthropomorphization  of  these  agencies  is  the 
necessary  symptom  and  result, — until,  as  the  end  of  the 
process,  when  all  causal  agencies  have  become  integrated  in 
the  conception  of  a  single  Causal  Agency,  the  tendency  to 
ascribe  anthropomorphic  attributes  to  this  Agency  has  reached 
its  minimum. 

We  may  now  consider  this  process  somewhat  more  in 
detail,  as  it  has  been  concretely  exemplified  in  history.  And 
in  doing  this  it  will  become  apparent  that,  in  spite  of  its 
vagueness,  its  inadequacy,  and  the  fundamental  error  which 
vitiates  it,  the  Comtean  conception  undeniably  contained  an 
adumbration  of  the  truth.  It  recognized  the  process  of  dean- 
thropomorphization  as  historically  displayed,  though  it  did 
not  interpret  it  psychologically.  And  in  several  of  its  minor 
statements,  we  can  have  no  hesitation  in  admitting  Comte's 
generalization  to  be  thoroughly  valid.  It  is,  for  example,  a 
historical  fact  that  monotheism  was  preceded  by  polytheism, 
and  that  polytheism  was  preceded  by  fetishism  ;  as  indeed  it 
was  a  psychological  necessity  that  it  should  be  so.  Nor  need 
we  have  any  scruples  about  grouping  these  various  forms  of 
anthropomorphism  under  the  general  title  of  theology;  or 
about  employing  the  term  "  metaphysics  "  to  designate  that 
imperfect  phase  of  science  in  which  the  necessity  for  veri- 
fication is  not  yet  recognized,  and  in  which  the  limits  to 
philosophic  inquiry  are  as  yet  undetermined.  It  was  in  this 
sense  that  the  term  was  defined  in  our  fifth  chapter,  and  it 
was  in  this  sense  that  Newton  used  it  in  his  famous  objur- 


ch.  vii.]     ANTHROPOMORPHISM  AND  COSMISM.  177 

gation,  "  0,  Physics,  beware  of  Metaphysics  !  "  The  term, 
as  thus  defined,  as  well  as  the  term  "  theology,"  belongs  to 
the  general  vocabulary  of  modern  philosophy ;  and  in  using 
the  two,  we  in  nowise  tacitly  commit  ourselves  to  the  un- 
tenable hypothesis  of  the  "  Three  Stages,"  while  at  the  same 
time  we  are  thereby  enabled  the  better  to  sum  up  the  facts 
which  seemed  to  Comte  to  justify  his  generalization. 

Premising  this,  we  may  proceed  to  gather  our  illustrations 
of  the  deanthropomorphizing  process.  And  first  let  us  note 
that  theology,  metaphysics,  and  science  all  have  their  com- 
mon starting-point  in  mythology.  It  is  worthy  of  remark 
that  at  about  the  same  time  when  Comte  first  announced  his 
theory  of  the  primeval  origin  of  philosophy  in  fetishism,  the 
greatest  of  modern  scholars,  Jacob  Grimm,  was  beginning 
those  profound  iuductive  researches  which  ended  in  demon- 
strating the  fetishistic  origin  of  myths.  The  myths  of  anti- 
quity and  of  modern  savagery  constitute  philosophy  in  its 
most  primitive  form,  and  embody  whatever  wisdom  fetishism 
has  to  offer  as  the  result  of  its  meditations  upon  the  life  of 
man  and  the  life  of  nature.  Primitive  men,  like  modern 
savages,  had  no  systematic  theology ;  they  possessed  no  sym- 
bolic conception  of  God  as  an  infinite  unity  ;  they  were  astray 
amid  an  endless  multitude  of  unexplained  and  apparently 
unconnected  phenomena,  and  could  therefore  form  no  gene- 
ralized or  abstract  notions  of  divinity.  But  they  were 
"oppressed  with,  a  sensus  numinis,  a  feeling  that  invisible, 
powerful  agencies  were  at  work  around  them,  who,  as  they 
willed,  could  help  or  hurt  them."  They  naturally  took  it  for 
granted  that  all  kinds  of  activity  must  resemble  the  one 
kind  with  which  they  were  directly  acquainted — their  own 
volition.  Seeing  activity,  life  and  motion  everywhere,  it  was 
impossible  to  avoid  the  inference  that  intelligent  volition 
must  be  everywhere.  Even  after  centuries  of  philosophizing, 
we  can  hardly  refrain  from  imagining  an  anthropomorphic 
effort,  oi  nisus,  as  constituting  the  necessary  link  between 

vol.  I.  N 


178  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

cause  and  effect.  Yet  in  our  minds,  in  so  far  at  least  as  our 
overt  utterances  are  concerned,  fetishism  lias  been  very  nearly 
destroyed  by  the  long  contemplation  of  the  unvarying  uni- 
formity of  the  processes  of  nature.  In  the  mind  of  the  primi- 
tive man  there  were  no  such  checks.  The  crude  inference 
had  its  own  way  unopposed  ;  and  every  action  was  believed 
to  have  its  volition  behind  it.  There  was  a  volition  for  sun- 
rise, and  another  for  sunset ;  and  for  the  flood  of  rain  and  the 
lightning  there  was  a  mighty  conflict  of  volitions,  a  genuine 
battle  of  manitous,  or  superior  beings,  whenever — in  mythic 
phrase — the  great  black  shaggy  ram,  lifting  audaciously  his 
moist  fleece  against  the  sky,  was  slain  and  annihilated  by  the 
golden,  poison-tipped,  unerring  shafts  of  Bellerophon.1 

Thus  we  may  safely  assert,  with  Comte,  that  the  earliest 
attitude  assumed  by  the  mind  in  interpreting  nature  was  a 
fetishistic  attitude.  That  chaos  which  the  oldest  traditions 
and  the  latest  science  alike  recognize  as  the  primordial  state 
of  the  material  universe  must  also  have  characterized  the 
infancy  of  the  human  intellect.  Until  phenomena  had  been 
partially  generalized,  they  could  only  have  been  considered 
the  manifestations  of  arbitrary  powers,  not  only  unallied,  but 
even  in  conflict  with  each  other.     And  psychology  tells  us 


1  Thus,  as  I  have  observed  in  another  work,  "  a  myth  is  an  explanation,  by 
the  uncivilized  mind,  of  some  natural  phenomenon  ;  not  an  allegory,  not  an 
esoteric  symbol, — for  the  ingenuity  is  wasted  which  strives  to  detect  in  myths 
the  remnants  of  a  refined  primeval  science, — but  an  explanation.  Primitive 
men  had  no  profound  science  to  perpetuate  by  means  of  allegory,  nor  were 
they  such  sorry  pedants  as  to  talk  in  riddles  when  plain  language  would  serve 
their  purpose.  Their  minds,  we  may  be  sure,  worked  like  our  own,  and 
when  they  spoke  of  the  far-darting  sun-god,  they  meant  just  what  they  said, 
Bave  that  where  we  propound  a  scientific  theorem,  they  constructed  a  myth. 
A  thing  is  said  to  be  explained  when  it  is  classified  with  other  things  with 
which  we  are  already  acquainted.  That  is  the  only  kind  of  explanation  of 
which  the  highest  science  is  capable.  We  explain  the  origin,  progress,  and 
ending  of  a  thunder-storm,  when  we  classify  the  phenomena  presented  by  it 
along  with  other  more  familiar  phenomena  of  vaporization  and  condensation. 
But  the  primitive  man  explained  the  same  thing  to  his  own  satisfaction  when 
he  had  classified  it  along  with  the  well-known  phenomena  of  human  volition, 
by  constructing  a  theory  of  a  great  black  dragon  pierced  by  the  unerring 
arrows  of  a  heavenly  archer." — Myths  and  Myth-Makers,  p.  2L 


ch.  vii.]      ANTHROPOMORPHISM  AND  COSMISM.  17U 

that  the  fetishistic  hypothesis  was  the  only  possible  one, — 
that  these  powers  must  have  been  supposed  to  effect  their 
purposes  by  means  of  volition.  As  we  have  seen,  all  inter- 
pretation of  phenomena  is  an  interpretation  in  terms  of  like- 
ness and  unlikeness.  We  know  an  object  only  as  this  thing 
or  that  thing,  only  as  classifiable  with  this  or  that  other 
object;  and  the  extent  of  our  knowledge  may  be  measured 
by  the  accuracy  and  exhaustiveness  of  our  classification.  To 
adopt  a  familiar  expression  of  Plato,  we  are  ever  carrying 
on  a  process  of  dichotomy ;  or,  in  the  more  precise  language 
of  modern  psychology,  we  are  continually  segregating  similar 
objects  and  similar  relations  of  objects  into  groups,  apart  from 
those  which  they  do  not  resemble.  If  we  fail  to  detect  the 
resemblances  which  really  exist,  or  if  we  have  imagined 
resemblances  which  do  not  exist,  our  interpretation  is  so  far 
inaccurate  and  untrustworthy,  but  not  therefore  necessarily 
useless.  Some  theory  is  needful  as  a  basis  for  further 
observation.  Wrong  classification  is  the  indispensable  pre- 
lude to  right  classification.  The  mind  cannot  go  alone  till 
it  has  for  awhile  groped  and  stumbled.  Xature,  the  hoary 
Sphinx,  sternly  propounds  a  riddle ;  and  many  a  luckless 
guesser  gets  devoured  before  an  Oidipous  arrives  with  the 
true  solution. 

In  the  primitive  hypothesis,  therefore,  the  forces  of  nature 
must  have  been  likened  to  human  volition,  because  there  was 
nothing  else  with  which  to  compare  them.  Man  felt  within 
himself  a  source  of  power,  and  did  not  yet  surmise  that  power 
could  have  any  other  source  than  one  like  that  which  he 
knew.  Seeing  activity  everywhere  manifested,  and  knowing 
no  activity  but  will,  he  identified  the  one  with  the  other; 
and  thus  the  same  mighty  power  of  imagination  which  now, 
restrained  and  guided  by  scientific  methods,  leads  us  to  dis- 
coveries and  inventions,  then  wildly  ran  riot  in  mythologic 
fictions  whereby  to  explain  the  phenomena  of  nature. 

The  advance  from  this  primeval  fetishism  through  poly- 

N  2 


180  COSMIC  FIULOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

theism  to  monotheism  was  determined  hy  the  gradual  attain- 
ment of  physical  knowledge,  or,  in  other  words,  by  the 
detoction  of  certain  uniformities  in  the  processes  of  nature. 
The  discovery  of  natural  laws  is  the  segregation  of  pheno- 
mena into  groups  according  to  their  relations  of  likeness  and 
unlikeness,  attended  by  the  disclosure  of  community  of  causa- 
tion for  the  phenomena  constituting  each,  group.  After  this 
process  has  continued  for  a  time,  it  is  perceived  that  there 
are  different  modes  of  causation.  Phenomena,  in  the  pro- 
duction of  which  the  human  will  is  not  implicated,  are  seen 
to  differ  from  those  in  which  it  is  concerned,  by  exhibiting  a 
more  conspicuous  and  readily  detected  regularity  of  sequence. 
Consequently,  in  considering  them,  the  conception  of  arbitrary 
or  capricious  will  is  gradually  excluded,  and  is  replaced  by 
the  conception  of  a  uniform  force,  whose  actions  may  be 
foreseen,  and  whose  effects,  if  harmful,  may  be  avoided. 
This  having  occurred  in  the  case  of  the  more  familiar  pheno- 
mena, the  same  result  eventually  follows  in  the  case  of  those 
which  are  more  remote.  The  ultimate  phase  of  this  process 
characterized  by  the  complete  extrusion  of  volitional  agenciei 
and  the  universal  substitution  of  the  conception  of  invariable 
sequence,  becomes  possible  only  after  an  immense  develop- 
ment of  physical  science.  Volitional  agencies,  therefore,  wert 
not  at  once  extruded,  but  were  only  generalized  more  and 
more,  and  gradually  separated  further  and  further  from  the 
phenomena  which  they  were  supposed  to  produce.  A  great 
step  was  taken  in  philosophy  when  the  Titan  dynasty  waa 
dethroned,  and  the  celestial  and  terrestrial  provinces  oJ 
phenomena  partitioned  between  Zeus  and  Poseidon.  A 
still  greater  step  was  taken  when  God,  considered  as  an 
arbitrary  volitional  agency,  was  entirely  separated  from  the 
universe  of  tolerably  uniform  sequences,  interposing  with  hia 
will  only  on  rare  occasions.  This  is  the  cruder  form  of  mono- 
theism, and  in  it  the  metaphysical  mode  of  thought  is  very 
conspicuous.     In  place  of  the  innumerable  volitional  agents 


ch.  vii.]      ANTHROPOMORPHISM  AND  COSMISM.  181 

of  the  older  tlieosophy,  we  have  now  innumerable  occulta 
vires,  inherent  virtues,  vital  principles,  essential  properties, 
and  abstract  entities ;  at  the  bottom  of  all  the  universal 
occult  entity  Nature,  which  is  regarded  as  producing  pheno- 
mena with  considerable  uniformity,  save  when  the  Volition  be- 
hind sees  fit  to  interpose  and  temporarily  modify  the  natural 
order.  Finally,  when  physical  generalization  has  advanced 
so  far  as  to  include  all,  or  nearly  all,  orders  of  phenomena, 
the  theory  of  miraculous  interposition  vanishes,  or  remains 
only  as  a  lifeless  formula,  verbally  assented  to,  but  not  really 
believed  in,  while  the  presiding  Volition  is  thrust  back  to  the 
beginning  of  things,  being  retained  only  as  a  convenient  and 
apparently  necessary  postulate  by  which  to  account  for  the 
origin  of  the  universe  and  the  harmonious  cooperation  of 
phenomena.  This  most  refined  form  of  theology  will  be 
thoroughly  discussed  in  a  future  chapter.  We  have  now 
only  to  note  that  further  progress  in  deanthropomorphization 
involves  the  extrusion  of  the  notion  of  a  volitional  Cause 
altogether,  and  leaves  us  with  the  conception  of  a  Cause  mani- 
fested throughout  the  entire  world  of  phenomena,  which  is  an 
indestructible  element  of  consciousness,  and  which,  equally 
with  the  anthropomorphic  conceptions  which  have  preceded 
it,  is  the  proper  object  of  religious  feeling,  but  concerning  the 
nature  of  which — in  itself,  and  apart  from  its  phenomenal 
manifestations — the  human  mind  can  frame  no  verifiable 
hypothesis. 

We  have  seen  that  this  terminal  phase  of  the  deanthropo- 
morphizing  process  is  radically  distinct  from  Positivism,  in 
#hich  the  Cause  manifested  in  the  world  of  phenomena  is 
entirely  ignored.  It  need  hardly  be  added  that  it  is  equally 
distinct  from  Atheism  and  Pantheism,  in  which  no  place  is 
left  for  a  Cause  distinct  from  phenomena  themselves.  How 
shall  we  characterize  this  terminal  phase  of  the  long  process 
of  philosophic  development  which  we  have  just  passed  in 
rapid  survey  ?    An  answer  will  be  forthcoming  if  we  pause 


182  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

to  consider  the  common  characteristics  of  the  theological 
phases  of  thought  which,  in  this  terminal  phase,  are  assumed 
to  be  outgrown  and  superseded.  Let  us  premise  that  the 
word  "  Cosmos  "  is,  by  virtue  of  its  etymology  and  of  strict 
scientific  usage,  the  antithetical  correlative  to  the  word 
"Chaos."  It  denotes  the  entire  phenomenal  universe;  it 
connotes  the  orderly  uniformity  of  nature,  and  the  negation  of 
miracle  or  extraneous  disturbance  of  any  kind.  Now  it  is  a 
common  characteristic  of  the  theologico-metaphysical  phases 
of  philosophy  above  passed  in  review,  that  while  they  have 
sought  to  explain  the  universe  of  phenomena,  their  explana- 
tions have  been  not  purely  cosmic,  but  to  a  greater  or  less  extent 
anthropomorphic.  Instead  of  restricting  themselves  to  the 
interpretation  of  the  uniformities  of  coexistence  and  sequence 
discovered  by  science,  they  have  had  recourse  to  unveritiabie 
hypotheses  concerning  supernatural  beings  and  occult  entities, 
and  have  thus  complicated  the  conception  of  the  Cosmos  with 
that  of  anthropomorphic  agencies  that  are  extra-cosmic.  We 
have  seen  that  the  process  of  scientific  generalization,  which 
underlies  the  evolution  of  philosophy  from  epoch  to  epoch,  is 
characterized  not  by  the  elimination  of  these  agencies,  but  by 
their  integration  into  a  single  Agency,  from  which  the  an- 
thropomorphic attributes  are  stripped,  and  which  is  regarded 
as  revealed  in  and  through  the  Cosmos.  Manifestly,  then, 
while  it  is  impossible  to  define  this  process  as  a  development 
from  Anthropomorphism  to  Positivism,  it  is  on  the  other 
hand  strictly  accurate  and  entirely  appropriate  to  define  it  as 
a  development  from  Anthropomorphism  to  Cosmism.  I  do 
not  know  where  we  could  find,  for  our  purpose,  a  pair  of 
terms  more  happily  contrasted.  For  besides  the  connota- 
tions just  described,  there  is  also  involved  in  this  termino- 
logy the  recognition  of  the  fact  that,  at  the  outset,  men 
interpreted  the  Cosmos  in  terms  of  human  feeling  and 
volition ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  as  the  newest  result  of 
scientific   generalization,   we   now   find   them   beginning  to 


ch.  vil]      ANTHROPOMORPHISM  AND  CO&tMltiM.  183 

interpret  human  feeling  and  volition  in  terms  obtained  from 
the  objective  study  of  the  Cosmos. 

Let  it  be  noted  also,  that,  along  with  this  group  of  happy- 
contrasts,  there  is  an  equally  happy  lack  of  antagonism 
between  our  pair  of  terms.  For  while,  on  the  one  hand, 
all  past  philosophies  have  been  Cosmic,  in  so  far  as  the 
interpretation  of  the  universe  has  been  their  aim ;  on  the 
other  hand,  it  will  never  be  possible  to  get  entirely  rid  of 
every  trace  of  Anthropomorphism.  For,  as  was  proved  in 
the  fourth  chapter,  there  is  anthropomorphism  even  in 
speaking  of  the  unknown  Cause  as  single ;  and,  as  has  been 
proved  in  the  present  chapter,  there  is  anthropomorphism 
even  in  speaking  of  the  unknown  Cause  as  a  Power  mani- 
fested in  phenomena.  Yet  we  must  either  use  such  language 
or  remain  silent ;  we  must  either  symbolize  the  unknown 
Cause  or  ignore  it, — and  as  the  latter  alternative  is  impos- 
sible, we  must  accept  the  former. 

Thus  is  exhibited  in  strong  relief  the  peculiar  excellence 
both  of  our  theory  of  deanthropomorphization,  and  of  the 
terms  in  which  it  is  stated.  For  whereas  the  Atheistic 
Philosophy  current  in  the  eighteenth  century,  sought  to 
break  entirely  with  the  past,  scornfully  setting  aside  its 
time-honoured  beliefs  as  so  much  quackery  and  delusion ; 
and  whereas  the  Positive  Philosophy,  in  spite  of  its  sym- 
pathetic attitude  toward  the  past,  consequent  upon  its 
announcing  itself  as  the  terminal  phase  of  a  long  develop- 
ment, nevertheless  was  obliged  tacitly  to  break  with  the 
past,  in  so  far  as  it  ignored  that  which  in  earlier  stages  had 
always  been  taken  for  granted ;  on  the  other  hand,  the 
Cosmic  Philosophy,  in  announcing  itself  as  the  most  recent 
phase  of  a  long  development,  recognizes  no  break  anywhere 
in  the  course  of  that  development.  While  Atheism  scoffed 
at  religion,  and  denied  that  the  religious  sentiment  needed 
satisfaction  ;  while  Positivism,  leaving  no  place  in  its  scheme 
lor  religion  to  occupy,  was  compelled  by  an  alter  thought  to 


184  COSMIC  PHILOSUPIl  V.  [pt.  i. 

proclaim  that  the  religious  sentiment  finds  its  legitimate 
satisfaction  in  the  service  of  an  idealized  Humanity; 
Cosniism,  on  the  contrary,  assigns  to  religion  the  same  place 
which  it  has  always  occupied,  and  affirms  that  the  religious 
sentiment  must  find  satisfaction  in  the  future,  as  in  the  past, 
in  the  recognition  of  a  Power  which  is  beyond  Humanity, 
and  upon  which  Humanity  depends.  The  existence  of  God 
— denied  by  Atheism  and  ignored  by  Positivism — is  the 
fundamental  postulate  upon  which  Cosmism  bases  its  syn- 
thesis of  scientific  truths.  The  infinite  and  absolute  Power, 
which  Anthropomorphism  has  in  countless  ways  sought  to 
define  and  limit  by  metaphysical  formulas,  thereby  rendering 
it  finite  and  relative,  is  the  Power  which  Cosmism  refrains 
from  defining  and  limiting  by  metaphysical  formulas,  thereby 
acknowledging  so  far  as  the  exigencies  of  human  speaking 
and  thinking  will  allow — that  it  is  infinite  and  absolute. 
Thus  in  the  progress  from  Anthropomorphism  to  Cosmism 
the  religious  attitude  remains  unchanged  from  the  beginning 
to  the  end.  And  thus  the  apparent  antagonism  between 
Science  and  Eeligion,  which  is  the  abiding  terror  of  timid 
or  superficial  minds,  and  which  the  Positive  Philosophy  did 
comparatively  little  to  remove,  is  in  the  Cosmic  Philosophy 
utterly  and  for  ever  swept  away. 

The  further  elucidation  of  these  views  must  be  postponed 
until  we  come  to  treat  in  detail  of  the  relations  of  science  to 
theism  and  religion.  With  this  preliminary  indication  of  a 
theory  to  be  hereafter  more  fully  unfolded,  the  present 
chapter  might  be  brought  to  a  close,  were  it  not  that  our 
conclusions  have  been  elicited  through  a  criticism  of  the 
theory  of  Comte,  and  that,  at  the  beginning  of  our  discussion, 
certain  expectations  were  held  out  which  the  close  of  the 
discussion  may  seem  to  have  belied.  Conformity  to  the 
requirements  of  sound  criticism  demands  that  something 
more  should  be  said  upon  this  point. 

We  started  in  the  belief  that  we  were  about  to  trace  the 


ch.  vii.]      ANTHROPOMORPHISM  AND  COSMTSM.  186 

outlines  of  some  grand  achievement  whereby  the  claims  of 
Comte  to  philosophic  originality  might  be  vindicated.  We 
expressed  entire  dissent  from  Prof.  Huxley's  opinion  that 
there  is  nothing  of  any  value  in  the  Positive  Philosophy 
save  that  which  it  has  borrowed  from  Hume.  And  we  went 
so  far  as  to  assert  that  Comte's  generalization  of  the  historic 
order  of  speculative  development  inaugurated  nothing  l^ss 
than  a  veritable  revolution  in  the  attitude  of  philosophy. 
Yet  we  have  ended  by  regarding  that  generalization  as 
wholly  erroneous  in  one  fundamental  point,  and  as  more  or  less 
inadequate  in  nearly  all  its  points.  And,  more  than  this,  we 
have  noted  that  the  very  weakness  of  Comte's  position  con- 
sisted in  his  inability  to  advance  one  step  in  psychology 
beyond  the  point  reached  by  Hume. 

In  spite  of  all  this,  however,  the  essential  importance  of 
the  step  taken  by  Comte  is  in  no  way  invalidated.  It  is  one 
thing  to  show  that  a  doctrine  is  not  wholly  true ;  it  is  quite 
another  thing  to  show  that  it  contains  no  truth  whatever. 
When  Copernicus,  for  example,  asserted  that  the  planets 
revolve  about  the  sun  in  circular  orbits,  he  made  a  statement 
which  is  false ;  yet  it  is  by  virtue  of  his  making  this  state- 
ment that  we  regard  him  as  the  inaugurator  of  the  modern 
movement  in  astronomy.  It  was  false  that  the  planets 
revolve  in  circular  orbits,  but  it  was  true  that  they  revolve 
about  the  sun ;  and  this  was  the  part  of  the  statement  which 
turned  men's  thoughts  into  a  new  channel.  Now,  while  I  do 
not  believe  that  Comte  will  ever  be  regarded  by  posterity  as  the 
Kepler  or  the  Newton  of  modern  philosophy,  it  is  not  at  all 
unlikely  that  he  will  be  pronounced  its  Copernicus.  Though 
he  was  wrong  in  asserting  that  in  the  course  of  speculative 
evolution  there  are  three  radically  distinct  stages,  and  wrong 
also  in  assuming  that  the  consciousness  of  Absolute  Exis- 
tence can  ever  be  abolished ;  he  was  right  in  asserting  that 
there  has  been  a  definite  course  of  speculative  evolution,  of 
which  deanthropomorphization  is  an  essential  feature,  and 


186  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY,  [pt.  i. 

which  must  end  in  the  complete  rejection  of  ontology.     And 
this — though  Prof.  Huxley  has  not  remarked  it — was  the 
part  of  his  statement  which  called  attention  to  the  fact  that 
a  new  era  in  speculation  was  commencing.     I  cannot,  there- 
fore, unreservedly  endorse  Mr.  Spencer's  assertion  that  Comte, 
while  accepting  the  doctrine  of  the  relativity  of  knowledge  and 
kindred  doctrines  of  modern  scientific  philosophy,  neverthe- 
less did  nothing  toward  placing  these  doctrines  upon  a  firmer 
ground  than  they  had  hitherto  occupied.     Comte  indeed  con- 
tributed nothing  whatever  to  the  psychological  justification 
or  elucidation  of  these  doctrines ;  yet  with  his  keen  historic 
sense,  he  did  much  toward  justifying  them  historically.     To 
Hume's  partial  demonstration  of  the  relativity  of  knowledge, 
Comte  added  incalculable  weight  by  showing  that  toward 
the  assertion  of  that  doctrine  tended  the  enormous  momen- 
tum of  twenty-five  centuries  of  speculative  activity.     It  is 
true  that  he  proved  this  point  only  by  an  empirical  induction 
from  the  facts  of  history ;  and  it  is  true  that  he  only  half 
understood  and  stated  incorrectly  the  doctrine  which  he  thus 
empirically  confirmed.     Nevertheless   even   this   incomplete 
achievement  was  partly  the  symptom  and  partly  the  cause 
of  a  philosophic  revolution,  the  character  of  which  we  shall 
more  fully  appreciate  when  we  come  in  our  final  chapter  to 
compare  the  critical  attitude  assumed  by  philosophy  in  our 
age  with  that  which  it  assumed  in  the  age  of  Rousseau  and 
the  Encyclopedistcs.      When  we  recollect  how  slow  is   the 
education  of  the  human  race,  and  how  few  are  they  who  can 
serve  efficiently  as  its  teachers,  we  shall  be  inclined  to  admit 
the  justice  of  the  principle  that  great  thinkers  should  be 
estimated  rather  according  to  what  they  have  accomplished 
than   according   to   what    they   have   failed   to   accomplish. 
Historic  criticism  is  at  last  beginning  to  learn  this  important 
lesson.     And  just  as  we  freely  admit  that  in  those  very 
speculations  of  Berkeley  and  Hume  and  Kant  which  we  now 
reject,  the  point  which  riveted  the  attention  of  their  authors 


ch.  vii.]      ANTH110P0M0BPHISM  AND  C08MISM.  187 

was  a  valuable  truth,  though  not  the  truth  which  they  sup- 
posed they  saw ;  in  like  manner  we  must  admit  that  in  that 
theory  of  Comte's  which  I  have  here  adversely  criticized, 
there  was  contained  a  fruitful  germ  of  truth. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

OEGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES. 

The  results  obtained  in  the  course  of  the  preceding  inquiry 
have  added  depth  and  precision  to  our  conception  of  the 
Scope  of  Philosophy.  In  coming  to  look  upon  all  phenomena 
as  manifestations  of  a  Power  unknowable  in  itself,  yet  know- 
able  in  the  order  of  its  phenomenal  manifestations,  we  have 
virtually  come  to  declare  that  the  true  business  of  philosophy 
is  the  determination  of  the  order  of  the  phenomena  in  which 
this  omnipresent  Power  is  manifested.  And  thus  we  arrive 
by  another  road  at  the  very  same  definition  of  Philosophy 
which  was  previously  given  ;  and  we  see  that  the  progress  of 
deanthropomorphization,  while  leaving  the  religious  attitude 
of  philosophy  entirely  unchanged,  has  at  the  same  time  pre- 
cisely limited  its  scope  in  making  it  the  Synthesis  of  the 
general  truths  of  science  into  a  system  of  universal  truth. 
We  have  next  to  inquire — as  preliminary  to  the  construction 
of  such  a  Synthesis — into  the  manner  in  which  the  different 
orders  of  scientific  truths  are  to  be  grouped  for  the  purposes 
of  our  philosophic  construction.  In  short,  we  are  brought 
face  to  face  with  the  problem  which  also  occupied  Comte 
next  in  order  after  the  question  of  deanthropomorphization : 
we  have  to  deal  with  the  classification  of  the  sciences. 
And,  as  in  the  preceding  chapter,  we  shall  endeavour,  while 


ch.  vrrr.]       OBGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES.  189 

adversely  criticizing  the  Couitean  theory,  to  elicit  results  which 
are  both  true  and  available  for  our  subsequent  inquiries. 

Comte  begins  by  distinguishing  two  kinds  of  natural 
sciences ;  the  one  kind  abstract  and  general,  having  for  their 
object  the  discovery  of  the  laws  to  which  the  various  orders 
of  phenomena  conform,  in  all  conceivable  cases ;  the  other 
kind  concrete,  special,  descriptive,  consisting  in  the  appli- 
cation of  general  laws  to  the  natural  history  of  the  various 
objects  actually  existing  in  the  present  or  past.  There  is 
nothing  difficult,  or  even  novel,  in  this  distinction,  since  it 
corresponds  very  nearly  with  that  which  is  ordinarily  drawn 
in  scientific  treatises  between  dogmatic  physics  and  natural 
history.  We  shall  see  the  difference  very  clearly  by  com- 
paring general  physiology,  on  the  one  hand,  with  zoology 
and  botany  on  the  other.  The  one  formulates  the  general 
laws  of  life,  whether  considered  in  equilibrium  or  in  the 
process  of  development;  the  other  merely  enumerates  the 
conditions  and  mode  of  existence  of  each  particular  species 
of  living  bodies.  Similar  is  the  contrast  between  chemistry 
and  mineralogy,  of  which  the  latter  science  is  evidently 
founded  upon  the  former.  In  chemistry  we  consider  all 
possible  combinations  of  heterogeneous  molecules,  in  all 
imaginable  circumstances ;  in  mineralogy  we  consider  only  the 
particular  combinations  which  are  found  realized  in  the  actual 
past  or  present  constitution  of  the  terrestrial  globe,  under 
the  influence  of  special  sets  of  conditions.  A  circumstance 
which  well  illustrates  the  difference  between  the  chemical 
end  the  mineralogical  point  of  view,  although  the  two  science? 
deal  with  the  same  objects,  is,  that  a  large  proportion  of  the 
facts  contemplated  in  chemistry  have  only  an  artificial  or 
experimental  existence.  So  that,  for  example,  a  body  like 
chlorine  or  potassium  may  possess  great  importance  iu 
chemistry  by  reason  of  the  extent  and  energy  of  its  reactions 
and  its  affinities  ;  while  in  mineralogy,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
may  be  of  little  importance,  because  it  is  but  seldom  con- 


190  COSMIC  PUILOHOVll  V.  [rr.  L 

cemed  in  producing  the  natural  rearrangements  of  molecules 
■which  it  is  the  business  of  mineralogy  to  explain.  And  con- 
versely., some  such  compound  as  granite  or  feldspar,  which 
fills  a  great  place  in  mineralogy,  may  be  of  little  interest 
from  the  chemical  point  of  view. 

Of  these  two  kinds  of  sciences  according  to  Comte,  mani- 
festly it  is  the  first  kind  which  first  needs  to  be  classified 
and  systematically  studied  in  its  doctrines  and  methods.     The 
scientific  study  of  concrete  physics  presupposes  the  scientific 
study  of  abstract  physics.     For  example,  the  study  of  the 
geologic  development  of  the  earth,  when  prosecuted  in  the 
most  comprehensive  manner,  requires  not  only  the  previous 
study  of  physics   and   chemistry,   but   also    some  previous 
knowledge  of  astronomy  and  physiology.     And  similarly  the 
scientific  study  of  oceanic  and  atmospheric  currents, — which, 
in  the  present  chaotic  state  of  our  nomenclature,  we  charac- 
terize variously  as  meteorology,  or  climatology,  or  include 
under  physical  geography, — demands  a  preliminary  acquaint- 
ance not  only  with  mechanics,  chemistry,  and  all  the  branches 
of  molecular  physics,  but  also  with  astronomy,  since  climatic 
rhythms  depend  upon  the  inclination  of  the  earth's  axis  to 
the  plane  of  the  ecliptic,  and  more  remotely  upon  the  varia- 
tions in  that  inclination  known  as  precession  and  nutation. 
It  is  for  this  reason  that  concrete  physics  has  made  so  little 
progress  down  to  the  present  day,  since  it  could  begin  to  be 
rationally  studied  only  after  all  the  branches  of  abstract  physics 
had  assumed  a  distinctively  scientific  character.    While,  con- 
versely, as    soon   as   abstract   physics   has  been  completely 
organized,  the  study  of  concrete  physics  becomes  merely  the 
detailed  application  of  general  principles  already  established. 
From  these  considerations  Comte  concluded  that  his  Positive 
Philosophy  might  be  founded  upon  a  thorough  organization  of 
the  doctrines  and  methods  of  the  abstract  sciences  alone.    The 
problem  first  in  order  was  to  arrange  th^se  sciences  in  a 
natural  series.     The  end  to  be  kept  in  view,  in  this  encyclo- 


en.  vin.]        ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES.  191 

psedic  labour,  is  to  arrange  the  sciences  in  the  order  of  theii 
natural  succession  and  mutual  interdependence  ;  so  that  we 
may  study  and  expound  them  one  after  the  other,  without 
ever  being  led  into  a  zigzag  or  circular  course  of  study  and 
exposition.  It  should  be  mentioned  here  at  the  outset,  that 
Comte  did  not  regard  such  an  end  as  strictly  attainable,  in 
all  its  rigorous  precision.  He  tells  us  expressly  that  how- 
ever natural  and  however  logically  serviceable  such  a  classi- 
fication may  be,  it  must  always  and  necessarily  contain 
something  that  is  arbitrary,  or  at  least  artificial,  in  its 
arrangements.  This,  as  he  clearly  saw,  must  ever  result 
from  the  very  richness  and  complexity  of  Nature,  which 
refuses  to  be  analyzed  and  partitioned  off  into  distinct  pro- 
vinces, save  provisionally  for  convenience  of  study.  In  his 
Introduction  he  reminds  us  that  so  few  as  six  fundamental 
sciences  will  admit  of  seven  hundred  and  twenty  different 
arrangements ;  and  that  in  behalf  of  each  of  these  arrange- 
ments very  likely  something  might  be  said,  since  even  in  the 
various  classifications  already  proposed,  the  same  science 
which  one  places  at  the  beginning  of  the  scale  is  by  another 
placed  at  the  end.1  Nevertheless  there  is  one  series  which 
is  clearly  indicated  by  the  decreasing  generality  and  simpli- 
city of  the  phenomena  with  which  the  respective  sciences 
are  concerned.  And  this  is  the  order  which  Comte  adopts, 
primarily  on  account  of  its  logical  convenience.  He  begins 
with  the  most  simple  and  general  phenomena,  to  proceed 
step  by  step  to  those  which  are  most  complex  and  special. 

Proceeding  upon  this  principle,  we  are  confronted  at  once 
by  two  grand  divisions  of  phenomena,  inorganic  and  organic. 
There  is  no  difficulty  in  deciding  which  of  these  to  study 
first.  The  more  general  and  simple  phenomena  of  weight, 
heat,  light,  electricity,  and  chemism,  are  manifested  alike  by 

i  Later  in  life  Comte,  no  doubt,  camp  to  look  upon  his  classification  as 
complete  and  final.  And  so  it  appears  to  be  regarded  by  his  disciples,  who 
are  deaf  to  all  the  considerations  which  impeach  it. 


192  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  \n.\ 

not-living  and  "by  living  bodies  ;  whereas  the  more  special 
and  complex  phenomena  of  life  are  manifested,  of  course, 
only  by  the  latter.  Therefore  the  science  of  inorganic  pheno- 
mena must  precede  the  other.  We  can  study  thermal  radia- 
tions and  chemical  reactions  without  taking  vital  forces  into 
the  account ;  but  we  cannot  study  living  organisms  without 
appealing  to  physics  and  chemistry  at  every  step. 

In  the  science  of  inorganic  phenomena  a  somewhat  less 
obvious  principle  of  division  next  presents  itself.  Inorganic 
physics  may  be  divided  into  celestial  and  terrestrial  physics ; 
of  which  the  first  treats  only  of  gravitative  force  as  mani- 
fested in  the  relatively  simple  phenomena  of  the  mutual 
attractions  of  the  heavenly  bodies ;  while  the  second  treats 
not  only  of  gravitative  force  as  manifested  throughout  rela- 
tively complex  terrestrial  phenomena,  but  also  of  the  mole- 
cular forces,  cohesion  and  chemism,  and  of  the  modes  of 
undulatory  motion  called  sound,  heat,  light,  magnetism,  and 
electricity.  This  second  division  may  be  again  subdivided 
into  physics  proper  and  chemistry.  The  first  treats  of  those 
changes  in  which  the  relative  positions  of  the  molecules  of 
matter  are  altered  homogeneously,  resulting  in  increase  or 
decrease  of  volume,  or  other  change  of  physical  state ;  while 
the  second  treats  of  those  changes  in  which  the  relative 
positions  of  molecules  are  altered  heterogeneously,  resulting 
in  the  production  of  new  compounds  and  new  affinities.  Of 
these  two  sciences,  manifestly  physics  should  be  first  studied. 
We  can  to  a  certain  extent  generalize  the  laws  of  reflection 
and  refraction,  condensation  and  rarefaction,  without  help 
from  chemistry ;  but  we  cannot  proceed  a  step  in  chemistry 
without  appealing  to  physics. 

Turning  now  to  organic  phenomena,  we  perceive  that 
living  beings  may  be  studied  either  individually  or  col- 
lectively. In  the  first  case  we  generalize  the  laws  of  nutri- 
tion and  reproduction,  of  muscular  contractility  and  nervous 
sensibility.    This  is  the  province  of  biology,  a  science  which 


oh.  viii.]        ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES.  193 

according  to  Comte,  is  of  itself  competent  to  include  all  the 
phenomena  presented  by  vegetables  and  by  the  lower 
animals,  as  well  as  all  those  presented  by  individual  man. 
But  in  the  case  of  man,  the  aggregation  of  individuals  gives 
rise  to  an  entirely  new  class  of  phenomena  produced  by  the 
reaction  of  individuals  upon  each  other.  To  generalize  the 
laws  of  this  class  of  phenomena  is  the  business  of  sociology, 
which  is  thus  manifestly  the  most  complex  and  special  of 
the  sciences. 

According  to  Comte,  this  disposes  of  all  the  fundamental 
abstract  sciences,  except  mathematics.  This  science  he 
places  first  of  all,  the  phenomena  of  number  and  form  being 
universal,  and  capable  of  generalization  without  reference 
to  other  phenomena. 

Thus   we   have  the  hierarchy  of    the   positive   sciences 
arranged  in  the  following  order  : — 
I.  Mathematics. 
II.  Astronomy. 

III.  Physics. 

IV.  Chemistry. 
V.  Biology. 

VI.  Sociology. 

In  each  of  these  sciences,  there  are  several  subdivisions 
which  Comte  endeavours  to  arrange,  wherever  it  is  possible, 
according  to  the  same  general  principle  of  convenience.  In 
mathematics,  he  places  algebra  before  geometry,  on  the 
ground  that  we  can  study  number  by  itself,  but  in  order  to 
study  form  we  must  make  use  of  sundry  laws  of  number ; 
and  for  a  similar  reason,  mechanics,  which  involves  time  and 
motion,  is  placed  subsequent  to  the  other  two.  In  physics, 
barology,  or  the  general  doctrine  of  weight  and  pressure,  is 
placed  first,  as  nearest  akin  to  astronomy ;  and  electrology  is 
placed  last,  as  nearest  akin  to  chemistry.  The  intermediate 
branches,  acoustics,  optics,  and  thermology,  would  now  be 
ranked  in  the  order  in  which  I   have   named  them;  but 

VOL.  L  O 


194  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [n:  i. 

Comte  ranked  thermology  first,  probably  because  of  the 
enthusiasm  aroused  in  him  by  his  friend  Fourier's  achieve- 
ment in  bringing  the  general  doctrine  of  thermal  expansion 
and  contraction  so  thoroughly  under  the  sway  of  mathe- 
matical analysis.  In  biology,  anatomy,  or  the  study  of 
structure,  is  placed  before  physiology,  or  the  study  of  func- 
tion; and  the  study  of  the  vegetal  or  nutritive  functions 
precedes  that  of  the  animal  or  nervo-muscular  functions. 
In  sociology,  the  study  of  equilibrium,  or  the  conditions 
essential  to  order,  is  ranked  before  the  study  of  the  laws  of 
progress  as  generalized  from  history.1 

It  will  be  observed  that  in  this  scheme  no  special  place  is 
assigned  to  psychology.  This  is  an  omission  quite  in  keep- 
ing with  Comte's  general  conception  of  the  scope  of  philo- 
sophic inquiry,  from  which  the  observation  and  analysis  of 
states  of  consciousness  are  purposely  omitted  altogether.  This 
omission  will  best  be  criticized  and  characterized  later  on, 
when  in  the  course  of  our  philosophic  synthesis  we  shall 
have  arrived  at  the  discussion  of  the  relations  of  the  phe- 
nomena of  mind  to  the  phenomena  of  life.2  Meanwhile, 
merely  noting  this  serious  omission,  we  may  observe  that 
.  the  classification  just  sketched  is  so  fascinating  in  its  sim-  ' 
plicity,  and  so  manifestly  convenient  for  many  practical 
purposes  of  research,  that  at  first  it  seems  almost  a  pity  for 
criticism  to  invalidate  it.  Its  leading  features  appear  to  speak 
for  themselves,  to  carry  their' own  recommendation  with  them, 
to  characterize  this  classification  as  the  best  which,  with  our 
present  resources,  it  is  possible  to  frame.  And,  indeed,  if  we 
compare  it  with  some  of  the  most  ambitious  preceding  classi- 
fications, such  as  those  of  Oken  and  Hegel ;  or  even  with 

1  Tn  a  future  chapter,  it  will  appear  that  the  proper  arrangement  is  just  the 
Mverse  of  this,  no  sound  theory  of  social  equilibrium  being  attainable  until 
the  laws  of  progress  have  been  generalized  from  history,  with  the  aid  of 
biohtgy  and  psychology.  Here,  as  in  many  other  cases,  Comte's  error  wai 
due  to  li  is  imperfect  comprehension  of  the  principle  of  Evolution. 

2  See  below,  part  ii.  chap.  xiv. 


ch.  viii.]        ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES.  195 

the  less  pretentious  but  more  useful  systems  of  D'Alembert, 
Stewart,  Ampere,  Geoffroy  St.  Hilaire,  and  Cournot ;  its 
superiority  is  at  once  apparent.  The  arrangement  seems  so 
natural  and  obvious  that  it  has  not  unfrequently  been  cha- 
racterized by  able  critics  as  "just  the  sort  of  classification 
that  would  naturally  arise  in  any  reflecting  mind  on  a  review 
of  the  subject."  We  should  not  forget,  however,  that  it 
never  had  arisen  in  any  of  the  reflecting  minds  which  re- 
viewed the  subject  previous  to  Comte. 

But  Comte,  who  viewed  everything  in  a  historical  light, 
intended  that  his  classification  should  be  something  more 
than  a  convenient  plan  for  arriving  at  philosophic  generality 
through  the  study  of  the  separate  abstract  sciences.  He 
regarded  it  also  as  a  kind  of  philosophic  tableau  or  con- 
spectus of  the  progress  of  the  human  mind  from  anthropo- 
morphic toward  scientific  conceptions  of  natural  phenomena. 
According  to  him,  the  order  in  which  he  arranged  the 
sciences  was  the  order  in  which  they  had  respectively  been 
constituted  as  sciences, — in  which  they  had  passed  from  the 
theological  or  metaphysical  into  the  scientific  stage.  Thus 
mathematics,  he  tells  us,  has  been  a  science,  in  the  strict  sense 
of  the  word,  from  time  immemorial ;  but  he  omits  to  tell  us 
that  pure  mathematics,  dealing  solely  with  number  and  form, 
and  not  involving  conceptions  of  force,  could  never  have 
been  in  the  theological  stage.  It  was  only  the  phenomena 
of  force  which  to  primitive  men  must  have  seemed  to  require 
nn  anthropomorphic  explanation.  The  action  of  the  human 
will,  by  the  analogy  of  which  external  events  were  explained, 
may  be  a  mechanical,  but  it  is  not  a  geometrical  or  algebraic 
phenomenon.  When  we  come  to  mechanics,  there  is  room  to 
construct  volitional  explanations.  Nevertheless  in  mechanics 
there  are  so  few  traces  of  such  explanations,  since  the  dawn 
of  history,  that  Comte  thinks  it  may  have  always  been  a 
positive  science ;  and  he  quotes  approvingly  Adam  Smith's 
remark  that  nowhere  do  we  ever  hear  of  a  god  of  Weight. 

o  2 


196  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [it.  i. 

Such  a  god,  however,  had  there  ever  been  one,  would  have 
been  a  generalized  deity,  belonging  to  a  comparatively 
advanced  system  of  polytheism ;  and  though  we  are  entitled 
to  infer  from  this  that  the  earliest  generalization  of  the 
phenomena  of  weight  was  a  scientific  and  not  a  theological 
generalization,  we  are  not  entitled  to  infer  that  in  the 
primeval  fetishistic  period,  before  the  phenomena  had  been 
generalized  at  all,  they  were  not  supposed  to  be  due  to  voli- 
tion. It  is  one  of  the  unfortunate  results  of  Comte's  use 
of  the  term  "theological,"  to  characterize  this  primitive 
philosophy,  that  we  are  apt  to  think  it  necessary  to  seek 
for  signs  of  a  deity  when  examining  the  so-called  theologic 
epoch.  The  idea  of  a  god  distinct  from  the  phenomenon 
was,  however,  a  polytheistic,  not  a  fetishistic  idea :  it  was 
the  result  of  much  abstraction  and  generalization.  Fetish- 
ism endowed  the  particular  object  itself  with  volition. 
And,  such  being  the  case,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that 
many  even  of  the  simplest  mechanical  phenomena  may  have 
been  originally  explained  as  due  to  the  free  will  of  the 
objects  concerned.1  However  this  may  be,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  mechanical  conceptions  ceased  to  be  anthropo- 
morphic at  a  very  early  date,  and  that  statics,  one  branch 
of  mechanics,  is  the  oldest  of  the  sciences,  outside  of  pure 
mathematics. 

If  now  we  consider  the  three  great  branches  of  inorganic 
physics,  we  find  abundant  records  of  a  time  when  the 
heavenly  bodies  were  supposed  to  be  intelligent  creatures, 
and  were  worshipped  as  such.  Even  in  the  enlightened  age 
of  Perikles,  and  in  the  most  advanced  community  then 
existing,  Anaxagoras  came  near  losing  his  life  for  asserting 
that  the  moon  was  a  mass  of  rocks  and  not  a  goddess.  Long 
after  monotheism  had  overthrown  these  crude  interpretations, 
the  planets  were  still  supposed  to  be  the  abode  of  controlling 

1    See    Mytlis   and    Myth-Makers,    chap,    vii.,    "  The    Primeval    Ghost 
World. 


*h.  vni.]        ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES.  197 

archangels.  Even  Kepler  himself,  early  in  the  seventeenth 
century,  was  inclined  to  countenance  this  opinion,  as  may  be 
seen  from  a  remarkable  passage  in  his  "  Harmonices  Mundi" 
(p.  252).  It  was  not  until  Newton  that  dynamical  astronomy 
became  a  positive  science.  Similarly  with  the  phenomena  of 
terrestrial  physics.  The  electric  phenomena  of  storms,  the 
thermal  phenomena  of  congelation,  the  optical  phenomena  of 
the  rainbow  and  the  mirage,  have,  within  the  period  known 
to  history,  been  explained  anthropomorphicaUy ;  and,  as  late 
as  the  time  of  Cardan,  echoes  were  by  the  unlearned  inter- 
preted as  the  voices  of  mocking  demons,  and  ignes  fatui  were 
regarded  as  malign  spirits  inhabiting  marshes.  While  in 
chemistry,  both  the  Arabian  alchemists  and  their  European 
successors,  in  manipulating  some  of  the  more  powerful  re- 
agents, and  especially  in  the  use  of  explosive  or  highly  com- 
bustible materials,  believed  themselves  to  be  forcing  unwilling 
supernatural  agents  to  execute  their  purposes.  Probably  the 
name  "  spirits,"  as  employed  in  modern  pharmacy,  has  had 
some  such  anthropomorphic  origin. 

Inorganic  physics  has  by  this  time  become  almost  entirely 
free  from  anthropomorphic  conceptions.  In  the  sciences 
which  deal  with  organic  phenomena,  however,  purely  scientific 
conceptions  do  not  yet  reign  supreme.  Biology  and  sociology 
are  still  infected  with  metaphysical,  and  even  to  a  certain 
extent  with  theological,  notions.  In  biology,  for  instance,  we 
have  the  anthropomorphic  conception  of  an  archceus  or  vital 
principle,  distinct  from  the  organism,  and  controlling  its 
molecular  processes.  Though  such  a  theory  would  not,  at 
the  present  day,  be  defended  by  any  authoritative  writer  upon 
this  subject,  it  is  nevertheless  vaguely  present  in  the  popular 
mind,  and  exerts  a  clandestine  influence  even  upon  scientific 
speculations.  The  metaphysical  doctrine  of  stimulus,  so  ably 
criticized  by  Dr.  Anstie  in  his  treatise  on  "  Stimulants  and 
Narcotics," — the  doctrine  that  stimulus  is,  not  an  increase  in 
the  rate  of  nutrition  of  the  nerves,  but  a  goading  of  the 


198  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  l 

organism,  sure  to  be  followed  by  a  depressive  reaction, — is 
founded  mainly  upon  this  antiquated  a  priori  conception  of 
a  vital  principle.  To  take  another  instance,  colds,  fevers, 
and  other  diseases  are  commonly  spoken  of  as  entities  which 
"  get  into  the  system,"  and  are  to  be  driven  out ;  and  imper- 
fectly educated  physicians  are  often  heard  reasoning  upon 
this  mythological  assumption ;  whereas  a  disease  of  any  kind, 
scientifically  considered,  is  not  an  entity,  but  a  disturbance 
of  equilibrium  among  the  interacting  functions  of  the 
organism.  A  cancer,  for  instance,  is  a  modification  of  struc- 
ture resulting  from  a  disturbance  in  the  general  process 
of  nutrition.  Molecules  which  should  normally  be  deposited 
here  and  there  throughout  the  various  tissues  begin  to  aggre- 
gate over  a  single  limited  area,  forming  a  new  abnormal 
tissue,  of  low  vitality;  and  this  new  tissue  grows  at  the 
expense  of  the  organism  until  death  ensues  from  exhaustion, 
or,  if  the  wall  of  a  large  bloodvessel  happens  to  get  en- 
croached upon  and  disintegrated,  death  ensues  from  hemor- 
rhage. So  an  ordinary  fever,  in  which  blood-poisoning  does 
not  occur,  is  the  result  of  an  ill-understood  alteration  in  the 
molecular  properties  of  the  blood,  one  of  the  chief  symptoms 
of  which  is  the  adherence  of  the  blood-corpuscles  to  the  walls 
of  the  capillaries.  Yet  so  prevalent  still  is  the  personifying 
habit  of  thought,  that  cancers  and  fevers  are  spoken  of  and 
reasoned  about  as  occult  entities,  as  ugly  Things  which  some- 
how or  other  "  get  into  "  the  blood. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  insist  upon  the  prevalence  of  the 
metaphysical  habit  in  sociology,  where  final  causes  are  still 
sought  after,  where  the  doctrine  of  the  "  freedom  of  the  will " 
(or,  as  it  might  better  be  termed,  of  the  "  lawlessness  of  voli- 
tion ")  still  maintains  a  precarious  footing,  and  where  prac- 
tical conclusions  are  constantly  based  upon  the  a  priori 
doctrine  of  inherent  "  rights."  Here,  too,  as  well  as  in 
biology,  even  the  theological  point  of  view  not  unfrequently 
appears.     The  late  war  between  France  and  Germany  was 


ch.  tiii]        ORGANIZATION  OF  TEE  SCIENCES.  199 

doubtless  the  occasion  of  many  prayers  to  the  "  God  of 
Battles."  The  same  persons  who,  in  the  regular  recurrence 
of  the  seasons,  in  the  expansion  of  heated  bodies,  in  the 
explosion  of  fulminating  compounds,  in  the  darkness  caused 
by  an  eclipse,  in  short  throughout  the  entire  realm  of  in- 
organic phenomena,  see  nothing  but  the  operations  of  uniform 
forces,  nevertheless  explain  diseases,  famines,  and  political 
revolutions,  upon  the  hypothesis  of  an  overruling  Providence 
extraneous  to  the  Cosmos ;  announcing,  perhaps,  the  doctrine 
of  a  divine  judgment  upon  sin, — which  is  indeed  not  a 
fiction,  but  the  mythologic  version  of  a  scientific  truth. 

Not  only  (according  to  Comte)  has  deanthropomorphization 
proceeded  more  rapidly  in  the  simpler  sciences  than  in  the 
more  complex  ones,  but  the  generalization  of  causal  agencies, 
of  which  deanthropomorphization  is  the  result,  took  place 
earlier  in  the  former  than  in  the  latter.  This  is  to  be  seen  by 
comparing  the  dates  at  which  the  sciences  respectively  ceased 
to  be  mere  aggregations  of  empirical  knowledge,  and  became 
founded  as  sciences,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word.  Thus 
astronomy,  at  least  in  its  statical  department,  was  a  science  in 
the  days  of  Hipparchos.  Physics  became  a  science  when 
Galileo  discovered  the  law  of  falling  bodies.  Chemistry 
became  a  science,  about  a  hundred  and  seventy  years  later, 
when  Lavoisier  overthrew  the  doctrine  of  phlogiston,  and 
detected  the  true  principles  of  combustion.  Biology  did 
not  become  a  science  until  the  very  end  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  when  Bichat  pointed  out  the  relations  between  the 
functions  of  organs  and  the  properties  of  tissues.  Finally 
sociology  has  hardly  yet  become  a  science ;  and  many 
educated  persons  still  regard  historical  events  as  happening 
in  no  determinate  sequence,  and  stigmatize,  as  not  only 
chimerical  but  even  impious,  any  attempt  to  formulate  the 
order  of  such  events. 

Here  it  becomes  desirable  to  pass  from  simple  exposition 
to  criticism.     In  the  Comtean  views  above  set  forth  we  must 


200  •  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pi.  i. 

of  course  recognize  a  large  amount  of  historic  truth.  There 
can  be  no  doubt  that  anthropomorphic  conceptions  soonest 
disappear  from  those  departments  of  science  which  are  earliest 
constituted  and  most  rapidly  developed.  Nor  can  there  be 
any  doubt  that  in  a  vague  and  general  way  the  Comtean 
arrangement  represents,  or  at  any  rate  suggests,  the  historic 
order  of  progression.  No  doubt  mathematics  is  the  oldest  of 
the  sciences — as  indeed  its  name  curiously  hints  to  us — and 
sociology  the  youngest.  No  doubt  the  movements  of  masses, 
of  which  astronomy  and  physics  treat,  were  correctly  formu- 
lated sooner  than  the  combinations  of  heterogeneous  mole- 
cules, which  form  the  subject-matter  of  chemistry.  And  no 
doubt  the  science  of  inorganic  phenomena  as  a  whole  is  more 
complete  than  the  science  of  organic  phenomena.  All  this 
must  be  admitted.  Yet  if  we  examine  more  closely  into  the 
matter,  we  shall  discover  grave  errors  in  this  classification 
which  looked  so  fair  to  us  on  a  cursory  inspection.  We  shall 
notice  first  that  in  many  points  of  fundamental  importance 
it  does  not  faithfully  represent  the  order  of  historic  progres- 
sion ;  and  when  we  come  to  inquire  into  the  reason  of  this 
failure,  we  shall  find  that  the  classification  errs  from  its 
very  simplicity,  that  the  facts  to  be  arranged  are  too  com- 
plex and  heterogeneous  to  admit  of  any  such  facile  linear 
arrangement. 

In  the  first  place  the  historical  relations  between  astronomy 
and  physics  have  been  mis-stated  by  Comte,  and  he  has 
marked  out  the  province  of  physics  after  a  fashion  that  is,  at 
the  present  day,  completely  indefensible.  To  class  together 
the  science  which  treats  of  weight  and  pressure,  and  the 
sciences  which  treat  of  light,  heat,  and  electricity,  and  to 
refer  to  the  whole  under  the  general  appellation  of  Physics, 
is  to  prepare  the  way  for  statements  which  are  too  general  to 
be  accurate.  In  contrasting  physics  with  astronomy,  how- 
ever, Comte  is  careful  to  let  us  know  that  he  intends  tc 
designate  that  physics  which  deals  with  the  phenomena  o' 


ch.  vni.]        ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES.  201 

moving  masses;  for  lie  tells  us  that  while  astronomy  has 
been  a  science  since  the  time  of  Hipparchos,  physics  first 
became  a  science  in  the  days  of  Galileo.  The  slightest  con- 
sideration will  show  us  that  this  apparent  confirm" tion  of 
Comte's  views  rests  upon  a  verbal  ambiguity.  For  what  por- 
tion of  astronomical  phenomena  had  been  generalized  as  early 
as  the  time  of  Hipparchos  ?  Simply  the  statical  or  geo- 
metrical portion,  namely,  the  apparent  motions  of  the  planets, 
the  great  achievement  of  Hipparchos  having  been  the  con- 
struction of  the  theory  of  epicycles  and  eccentrics,  whereby 
to  formulate  these  motions.  It  is  needless  to  add  that  all  the 
geometrical  data  used  in  making  this  generalization  had  been 
obtained  from  the  previous  observation  of  terrestrial  pheno- 
mena. And  what  portion  of  physics  was  it  which  was  not 
generalized  till  the  time  of  Galileo  ?  It  was  the  dynamical 
portion,  since  statics  had  been  erected  into  a  science  by 
Archimedes,  who  lived  just  a  century  before  Hipparchos. 
By  comparing  the  statical  part  of  astronomy  with  the  dyna- 
mical part  of  physics,  Comte  finds  it  quite  easy  to  establish 
the  precedence  of  the  former.  Unfortunately,  such  pre- 
cedence is  not  what  the  argument  requires,  though  it  is  all 
that  can  be  established.  If  we  compare  like  orders  of  pheno- 
mena, we  shall  see  at  once  that  it  was  physics  which  pre- 
ceded astronomy.  Dynamical  astronomy  became  a  science 
only  with  the  discovery  of  the  law  of  gravitation  ;  and  this 
law  was  not  discovered,  nor  could  it  have  been  discovered, 
until  after  the  leading  generalizations  of  terrestrial  dynamics 
had  been  established.  For,  as  Mr.  Spencer  observes,  "  What 
were  the  laws  made  use  of  by  Newton  in  working  out  his 
grand  discovery  ?  The  law  of  falling  bodies,  disclosed  by 
Galileo;  that  of  the  composition  of  forces,  also  disclosed  by 
Galileo  ;  and  that  of  centrifugal  force,  found  out  by  Huy- 
ghens — all  of  them  generalizations  of  terrestrial  physics.  .  .  . 
Had  M.  Comte  confined  his  attention  to  the  things  and  dis- 
regarded the  words,  he  would  have  seen  that  before  mankind 


202  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

scientifically  coordinated  any  one  class  of  phenomena  dis- 
played  in  the  heavens,  they  had  previously  coordinated  a 
parallel  class  of  phenomena  displayed  upon  the  surface  of  the 
earth."1 

This  criticism  is  a  very  incisive  one.  It  destroys  this  part 
of  Comte's  classification  not  only  from  the  historical,  but 
also  from  the  logical  point  of  view.  It  shows  that  the  study 
of  astronomy  depends  upon  that  of  terrestrial  physics,  and 
should  therefore  come  after,  and  not  before  it.  In  fact  the 
whole  science  of  astronomy,  as  at  present  constituted,  con- 
sists of  two  portions, — the  theory  of  gravitation  and  the 
theory  of  nebular  evolution.  The  first  of  these,  as  we  have 
just  seen,  is  a  mere  extension  to  celestial  phenomena  of  cer- 
tain laws  of  terrestrial  physics.  The  second  depends  upon 
the  study  of  terrestrial  phenomena  in  a  yet  greater  degree, 
since  it  involves  the  knowledge  not  only  of  gravitation,  but 
also  of  radiant  heat,  and  of  the  conditions  of  equilibrium  of 
gases  and  liquids.2 

If  now  we  compare  physics  with  chemistry,  we  shall  find 
a  similar  ambiguity  in  Comte's  results.  It  is  easy  to  say 
that  chemistry  was  not  organized  into  a  science  until  toward 
the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century,  while  physics  was 
organized  at  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth :  but  what  do 
we  now  mean  by  physics  ?  If  we  mean  merely  the  science 
which  generalizes  the  phenomena  of  weight,  our  proposition 
is  indisputable ;  but  unfortunately  it  is  of  little  use  in 
supporting  the  Comtean  classification.  For  Comte,  as  we 
have  seen,  includes  under  the  general  head  of  physics,  not 

1  Spencer's  Essays,  1st  series,  p.  179. 

2  1  leave  this  as  it  stood  five  years  ago,  when  this  chapter  was  written. 
The  numerous  and  wonderful  disclosures  of  spectrum-analysis,  not  only  giving 
us  unlooked-for  information  concerning  the  physical  constitution  of  the  stars, 
but  even  throwing  new  light  on  their  movements,  make  it  desirable,  perhaps 
to  enlarge  the  scope  assigned  to  astronomy  in  the  text.  But  such  a  modifica- 
tion of  the  form  of  statement  would  show  only  the  more  forcibly  how  closely 
the  study  of  astronomy  depends  on  the  study  of  terrestrial  phenomena.  The 
greatest  step  recently  taken  in  science  is  thus  an  additional  argument  against 
the  validity  of  Comte's  conception. 


ch.viii.]        ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES.  80S 

only  the  science  of  weight,  but  also  the  sciences  of  heat, 
light,  electricity  and  magnetism,  to  say  nothing  of  sound.  It 
was  incumbent  on  Comte  to  show  that  this  whole  group  of 
phenomena  became  scientifically  coordinated  at  an  earlier 
date  than  the  phenomena  of  chemical  composition  and 
decomposition.  This,  however,  it  would  have  been  impos- 
sible to  show.  Electric  phenomena,  the  most  backward  of 
the  group,  were  not  scientifically  coordinated  until  the 
close  of  the  last  century,  when  Coulomb  generalized  the  laws 
of  electric  equilibrium.  Strictly  speaking,  there  was  no 
general  science  of  Physics  even  when  Comte  wrote  the 
"  Philosophic  Positive ; "  and  in  linking  together  the  allied 
departments  of  optics,  thermology,  acoustics  and  electrology, 
he  made  up  what  was  then  an  incongruous  group,  about 
which  it  was  unsafe  to  make  general  statements.  In  1842 — 
the  year  in  which  Comte's  work  was  finished — Mr.  Grove,  by 
showing  that  the  different  allied  manifestations  of  physical 
force  are  modes  of  motion  which  are  convertible  into  each 
other,  laid  the  foundations  of  a  general  science  of  Molecular 
Physics,  regarded  as  a  science  of  vibrations.  And  in  1843 
Mr.  Joule,  by  discovering  the  mechanical  equivalent  of  heat, 
gave  to  the  new  science  a  quantitative  character.  These 
were  the  great  epoch-making  steps,  like  the  steps  taken  by 
Newton  in  astronomy,  which  founded  the  science. 

It  is  thus  evident  that  Comte  was  far  from  successful  in 
this  part  of  his  classification  ;  and  considering  the  state  of 
•cience  forty  years  ago,  it  appears  impossible  that  he  should 
.Lave  succeeded.  He  united  phenomena  which  should 
have  been  kept  separate,  and  separated  phenomena  which 
should  have  been  united.  We  are  now  in  a  position  to  see 
that  Conne  s  grand  division  of  inorganic  science  must  be 
subdivided  into  Molar  Physics,  which  treats  of  the  move- 
ments of  masses  ;  Molecular  Physics,  which  treats  of  the 
movements  of  molecules  and  of  the  laws  of  aggregation  ot 
homogeneous  molecules;  and  Chemistry,  which  treats  of  the 


204  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  |pt.  I 

laws  of  aggregation  of  heterogeneous  molecules.  And  we 
see,  moreover,  that  astronomy  is  merely  the  application  of 
the  principles  of  molar  physics  (and,  in  its  latest  researches, 
of  molecular  physics  and  chemistry  also)  to  the  study  of  a 
special  class  of  concrete  phenomena.  Such  is  the  logical 
arrangement ;  and  the  only  historical  parallelism  to  be  found 
is  the  fact  that  theorems  relating  to  masses  were  readied 
sooner  than  theorems  relating  to  molecules. 

It  would  not  be  difficult  to  cite  other  instances  in  which 
the  Comtean  classification  is  at  variance  not  only  with  the 
order  of  the  phenomena  classified  but  also  with  the  order  of 
historic  progression.  But  I  prefer  to  quote  from  Mr.  Spencer 
a  remarkable  passage  which  strikes  immediately  at  the  vital 
point  of  the  theory.  Comte's  fundamental  error  was  in  not 
recognizing  "  the  constant  effect  of  progress  in  each  class 
upon  all  other  classes ;  but  only  on  the  class  succeeding  it 
in  his  hierarchical  scale.  He  leaves  the  impression  that,  with 
trifling  exceptions,  the  sciences  aid  each  other  only  in  the 
order  of  their  alleged  succession.  But  in  fact  there  has  been 
a  continuous  helping  of  each  division  by  all  the  others,  and 
of  all  by  each.  Every  particular  class  of  inquirers  has,  as  it 
were,  secreted  its  own  particular  order  of  truths  from  the 
general  mass  of  material  which  observation  accumulates; 
and  all  other  classes  of  inquirers  have  made  use  of  these 
truths  as  fast  as  they  were  elaborated,  with  the  effect  of 
enabling  them  the  better  to  elaborate  each  its  own  order  of 
truths.  It  was  thus  with  the  application  of  Huyghens's 
optical  discovery  to  astronomical  observation  by  Galileo.  It 
was  thus  with  the  application  of  the  isochronism  of  the 
pendulum  to  the  making  of  instruments  for  the  measuring  of 
intervals,  astronomical  and  other.  It  was  thus  when  the 
discovery  that  the  refraction  and  dispersion  of  light  did  not 
follow  the  same  law  of  variation,  affected  both  astronomy  and 
physiology  by  giving  us  achromatic  telescopes  and  micro* 
scopes.     It  was  thus  when  Bradley's  discovery  of  the  aberra- 


ch.  viit.]        ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES.  205 

tion  of  light  enabled  him  to  make  the  first  step  towards 
ascertaining  the  motions  of  the  stars.  It  was  thus  when 
Cavendish's  torsion-balance  experiment  determined  the  specific 
gravity  of  the  earth,  and  so  gave  a  datum  for  calculating  the 
specific  gravities  of  the  sun  and  planets.  It  was  thus  when 
tables  of  atmospheric  refraction  enabled  observers  to  write 
down  the  real  places  of  the  heavenly  bodies  instead  of  their 
apparent  places.  It  was  thus  when  the  discovery  of  the 
different  expansibilities  of  metals  by  heat,  gave  us  the  means 
of  correcting  our  chronometrical  measurements  of  astronomical 
periods.  It  was  thus  when  the  lines  of  the  prismatic 
spectrum  were  used  to  distinguish  the  heavenly  bodies  that 
are  of  like  nature  with  the  sun  from  those  which  are  not.  It 
was  thus  when,  as  recently,  an  electro-telegraphic  instrument 
was  invented  for  the  more  accurate  registration  of  meridional 
transits.  It  was  thus  when  the  difference  in  the  rates  of  a 
clock  at  the  equator  and  nearer  the  poles,  gave  data  for 
calculating  the  oblateness  of  the  earth,  and  accounting  for 
the  precession  of  the  equinoxes.  It  was  thus — but  it  is 
needless  to  continue.  We  have  already  named  ten  cases  in 
which  the  single  science  of  astronomy  has  owed  its  advance 
to  sciences  coming  after  it  in  Comte's  series.  Not  only  its 
secondary  steps,  but  its  greatest  revolutions  have  been  thus 
determined.  Kepler  could  not  have  discovered  his  celebrated 
iaws,  had  it  not  been  for  Tycho  Brahe's  accurate  observations  ; 
£.nd  it  was  only  after  some  progress  in  physical  and  chemical 
science  that  the  improved  instruments  with  which  those 
observations  were  made,  became  possible.  The  heliocentric 
theory  of  the  solar  system  had  to  wait  until  the  invention  of 
the  telescope  before  it  could  be  finally  established.  Nay, 
even  the  grand  discovery  of  all — the  law  of  gravitation — 
depended  for  its  proof  upon  an  operation  of  physical  science, 
the  measurement  of  a  degree  upon  the  earth's  surface.  Now 
this  constant  intercommunion,  here  illustrated  in  the  case  of 
one  science  only,  has  been  taking  place  with  all  the  sciences 


206  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

....  Let  us  look  at  a  few  cases.  The  theoretic  law  of  the 
velocity  of  sound,  enunciated  by  Newton  on  purely  mecha- 
nical considerations,  was  found  wrong  by  one-sixth.  The 
error  remained  unaccounted  for  until  the  time  of  Laplace, 
who,  suspecting  that  the  heat  disengaged  by  the  compression 
of  the  undulating  strata  of  the  air,  gave  additional  elasticity 
and  so  produced  the  difference,  made  the  needful  calculations 
and  found  he  was  right.  Thus  acoustics  was  arrested  until 
thermology  overtook  and  aided  it.  When  Boyle  and  Mariotte 
had  discovered  the  relation  between  the  density  of  gases  and 
the  pressures  they  are  subject  to ;  and  when  it  thus  became 
possible  to  calculate  the  rate  of  decreasing  density  in  the 
upper  parts  of  the  atmosphere ;  it  also  became  possible  to 
make  approximate  tables  of  the  atmospheric  refraction  of 
light.  Thus  optics,  and  with  it  astronomy,  advanced  with 
barology  ....  When  Fourier  had  determined  the  laws  of 
conduction  of  heat,  and  when  the  earth's  temperature  had 
been  found  to  increase  below  the  surface  one  degree  in  every 
forty  yards,  there  were  data  for  inferring  the  past  condition 
of  our  globe ;  the  vast  period  it  has  taken  it  to  cool  down  to 
its  present  state  ;  and  the  immense  age  of  the  solar  system 
— a  purely  astronomical  consideration.  Chemistry  having 
advanced  sufficiently  to  supply  the  needful  materials,  and  a 
physiological  experiment  having  furnished  the  requisite  hint, 
there  came  the  discovery  of  galvanic  electricity.  Galvanism 
reacting  on  chemistry  disclosed  the  metallic  bases  of  the 
alkalies,  and  inaugurated  the  electro-chemical  theory ;  in  the 
hands  of  Oersted  and  Ampere  it  led  to  the  laws  of  magnetic 
action;  and  by  its  aid  Faraday  detected  significant  facts 
relative  to  the  constitution  of  light.  Brewster's  discoveries 
respecting  double  refraction  and  dipolarization  proved  the 
essential  truth  of  the  classification  of  crystalline  forms 
according  to  the  number  of  axes,  by  showing  that  the 
molecular  constitution  depends  upon  the  axes.  In  these,  and 
in  numerous  other  cases,  the  mutual  influence  of  the  sciences 


ch.  viii.]        ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES.  207 

has  boon  quite  independent  of  any  supposed  hieraichical 
order.  Often,  too,  their  interactions  are  more  complex  than 
as  thus  instanced — involve  more  sciences  than  two  ....  So 
complete  in  recent  days  has  become  this  consensus  among  the 
sciences,  caused  either  by  the  natural  entanglement  of  their 
phenomena,  or  by  analogies  in  the  relations  of  their 
phenomena,  that  scarcely  any  considerable  discovery  con- 
cerning one  order  of  facts  now  takes  place  without  very 
shortly  leading  to  discoveries  concerning  other  orders."1 

Mr.  Spencer  goes  on  to  describe  the  infinitely  complex 
manner  in  which  the  various  sciences  act  upon  the  advance- 
ment of  the  arts,  and  are  reacted  upon  by  that  advancement. 
He  enumerates  the  vast  multitude  of  arts,  involving  the 
knowledge  of  many  distinct  sciences,  which  enter  into  the 
economical  production  of  such  an  apparently  simple  article 
as  a  child's  calico  frock.  He  shows  that  the  various  sciences 
by  turns  stand  in  the  relation  of  arts  to  each  other;  and  that 
often  the  mere  process  of  observation  in  any  one  science 
requires  the  aid  of  half  a  dozen  other  sciences.  But  it  is 
needless  for  me  to  go  on  quoting  from  an  essay  which  i3 
easily  accessible,  and  which  should  be  read  from  beginning 
to  end  by  everyone  who  wishes  to  understand  the  true 
character  of  scientific  progress.  I  prefer  to  add  an  illustra- 
tion or  two,  suggested  by  the  progress  of  science  during  the 
nineteen  years  that  have  elapsed  since  that  essay  was 
published ;  and  to  observe  how  Kirchhoff's  discoveries  in 
apectrum-analysis — rendered  possible  only  through  a  great 
advance  in  chemical  knowledge  —  have  reacted  upon 
astronomy,  enabling  Mr.  Huggins  to  determine  the  proper 
motion  of  Sirius,  and  consequently,  by  putting  it  in  our 
power  to  ascertain  the  motions  of  all  those  stars  which, 
moving  directly  towards  or  away  from  us,  yield  no  parallax, 
have  laid  the  foundations  for  a  general  theory  of  sidereal 
dynamics,  to  be  further  elaborated  in  the  future.     Or  to  take 

1  Spencer's  Essays,  1st  series,  pp.  181 — 183,  214,  215. 


208  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

a  still  more  striking  instance,  let  us  remember  how  Adam 
Smith's  elucidation  of  the  principle  of  "  division  of  labour," 
in  sociology,  suggested  to  Goethe  the  conception  of  a  "  division 
of  labour  "  in  biology,  and  thus  heralded  Von  Baer's  magni- 
ficent discovery  that  organic  development  is  a  progressive 
change  from  homogeneity  to  heterogeneity  of  structure.  And 
let  us  note  how  this  discovery  in  biology  has  lately  reacted 
upon  all  preceding  departments  of  investigation,  strengthening 
the  nebular  theory  in  astronomy  and  the  theory  of  the  pro- 
gressionists in  geology ;  and  thus  ultimately  reacting  upon 
our  philosophy  by  giving  us,  for  the  first  time,  a  scientific 
doctrine  of  the  evolution  of  the  physical  universe. 

Enough  has  been  alleged  to  prove  that  the  Comtean  view 
of  the  progress  of  science  fails  to  account  for  more  than  a 
limited  portion  of  the  facts  of  that  progress.  Instead  of  the 
sciences  aiding  each  other,  with  few  and  unimportant  ex- 
ceptions, only  in  the  hierarchical  order  in  which  Comte  has 
placed  them,  we  perceive  that  they  have  continually  been 
aiding  each  other  in  all  directions  at  once.  The  more 
complex  sciences  have  all  along  been  assisting  the  simpler 
ones,  and  these  have  often  been  delayed  in  their  progress  for 
want  of  the  assistance  which  the  former  have  ultimately 
furnished.  There  has,  therefore,  been  no  such  thing  as  a 
progressive  evolution  of  the  sciences  in  a  linear  order ;  but 
there  has  been  a  consentaneous  evolution,  in  which  the 
advance  of  each  science  has  been  a  necessary  condition  of 
the  advance  of  all  the  others. 

It  thus  appears  that  Comte  unduly  simplified  the  problem. 
His  classification  well  enough  expresses  the  order  of  develop- 
ment of  the  sciences,  in  so  far  as  their  development  has 
depended  merely  on  the  relative  simplicity  or  complexity  of 
the  phenomena  with  which  they  have  had  to  deal.  It  rests 
upon  the  assumption  that,  with  few  and  unimportant  ex- 
ceptions, the  progress  of  generalization  has  been  from  the 
simple  to  the   complex.     Now  this  is  not  the  case.     The 


en.  vni.]        ORGANIZATION  OF  TUB  SCIENCES.  209 

progress  of  generalization  has  indeed  been  partly  determined 
by  the  relative  simplicity  or  complexity  of  the  phenomena 
to  be  generalized  (and  this  fact  accounts  for  the  considerable 
amount  of  truth  which  the  Comtean  doctrine  contains) ;  but 
it  has  been  also  determined  by  several  other  circumstances. 
In  the  chapter  on  "  Laws  in  General "  to  be  found  in  the 
first  edition  of  "First  Principles,"  but  omitted  in  the  revised 
edition,  Mr.  Spencer  has  called  attention  to  some  of  these 
circumstances.  He  reminds  us  that  not  only  are  phenomena 
early  generalized  in  proportion  as  they  are  simple,  but  also  in 
proportion  as  they  are  conspicuous  or  obtrusive.  "  Hence  it 
happened  that  after  the  establishment  of  those  very  manifest 
sequences  constituting  a  lunation,  and  those  less  manifest 
ones  marking  a  year,  and  those  still  less  manifest  ones 
marking  the  planetary  periods,  astronomy  occupied  itself 
with  such  inconspicuous  sequences  as  those  displayed  in  the 
repeating  cycle  of  lunar  eclipses,  and  those  which  suggested 
the  theory  of  epicycles  and  eccentrics ;  while  modern  astro- 
nomy deals  with  still  more  inconspicuous  sequences,  some 
of  which,  as  the  planetary  rotations,  are  nevertheless  the 
simplest  which  the  heavens  present."  The  solution  of  the 
problem  of  specific  gravity  by  Archimedes,  and  the  discovery 
of  atmospheric  pressure,  nearly  nineteen  hundred  years  later, 
by  Torricelli,  involved  mechanical  relations  of  exactly  the 
same  kind ;  but  the  connection  between  antecedent  and  con- 
sequent was  much  more  conspicuous  in  the  former  case  than 
in  the  latter.  The  effect  produced  by  the  air  in  decomposing 
soil  is  a  phenomenon  just  as  simple  as  the  rusting  of  iron  or 
the  burning  of  wood  ;  but  it  is  far  less  conspicuous,  and 
accordingly  chemistry  generalized  the  one  long  before  the 
other.  Finally,  if,  remembering  the  enormous  advance  in 
science  due  to  the  telescope  and  microscope,  and  bearing  in 
mind  the  equally  astonishing  results  which  are  likely  to 
arise  from  the  use  of  the  lately-invented  spectroscope,  we  ask 
what  is  the  character  of  the  service  rendered  us  by  these 
VOL.  I  P 


210  COSMIC  PIIILOSOrilY.  [pt.  I. 

instruments;  the  reply  is  that  they  enable  us  to  generalize 
phenomena  which  before  were  too  inconspicuous  to  be 
generalized. 

Again,  other  things  equal,  phenomena  that  are  frequent 
have  been  scientifically  explained  sooner  than  unusual  phe- 
nomena. "  Rainbows  and  comets  do  not  differ  greatly  in 
conppicuousness,  and  a  rainbow  is  intrinsically  the  more 
involved  phenomenon ;  but  chiefly  because  of  their  far 
greater  commonness,  rainbows  were  perceived  to  have  a 
direct  dependence  on  sun  and  rain  while  yet  comets  were 
regarded  as  supernatural  appearances." 

In  like  manner  the  more  concrete,  relations  have  been 
formulated  before  those  that  are  more  abstract.  If  we  were 
to  adhere  rigorously  to  Comte's  principle  of  decreasing 
generality,  we  should  have  to  place  the  infinitesimal  calculus 
before  algebra,  and  algebra  before  arithmetic.  But  the  order 
of  development  has  been  just  the  reverse, — from  arithmetic, 
the  least  abstract  department,  to  calculus,  the  most  abstract. 

Lastly  I  would  suggest  a  circumstance,  not  mentioned  by 
Mr.  Spencer,  namely  that,  other  things  equal,  the  sciences 
must  advance  according  to  the  ratio  between  the  complexity 
of  the  phenomena  with  which  they  deal  and  the  multiplicity 
of  our  means  for  investigating  those  phenomena.  I  shall 
presently  describe  our  three  chief  implements  for  extorting 
the  secrets  of  Nature — observation,  experiment  and  com- 
parison ;  showing  that  in  general,  as  phenomena  become 
more  and  more  complicated,  our  ability  to  make  use  of  these 
implements  increases.  In  astronomy  we  have  only  observa- 
tion to  help  us;  but  astronomic  phenomena  are  comparatively 
simple,  so  that  here  we  have  a  highly-developed  science.  In 
biology  we  can  use  all  three  implements  ;  and  so,  in  spite  of 
the  complexity  of  vital  phenomena,  we  have  here  a  tolerably 
well-organized  science.  But  in  meteorology,  we  have  to  deal 
with  very  complex  phenomena,  and  still  have  no  resource 
save  in  steadfast  observation.     Hence  meteorology  is  still  a 


ch.  viii.]        ORGANIZATION  OF  TEE  SCIENCES.  211 

very  backward  science, — more  backward  even  than  sociology, 
of  which  the  phenomena  are  far  more  complex. 

According  to  Mr.  Spencer,  phenomena  are  also  generalized 
early  in  proportion  as  they  directly  affect  human  welfare. 
But  this  circumstance  would  appear  to  have  far  less  potency 
than  the  others  above  enumerated.  There  is,  of  course,  no 
doubt  that  men  will  earliest  study  those  subjects  which  most 
obviously  concern  them;  but  whether  their  study  will  be 
fruitful  or  not  depends,  as  it  seems  to  me,  upon  the  other 
factors  in  the  case,  above  enumerated.  I  doubt  if  there  is 
any  instance  in  which  this  factor  has  actually  overruled  the 
other  factors,  as  these  have  continually  overruled  each  other. 
Sociology  is  the  science  which,  more  than  all  others,  would 
seem  to  have  direct  practical  bearings  upon  human  v>  elfare ; 
yet,  although  men  have  studied  social  phenomena  since  the 
days  of  Plato,  they  have  but  lately  arrived  at  any  scientific 
generalizations  concerning  them.  The  daily  changes  of 
weather  are  more  obviously  concerned  w7ith  human  interests 
than  the  geological  succession  of  extinct  animals  and  vege- 
tables ;  yet  our  scientific  knowledge  of  palaeontology,  though 
unsatisfactory  enough,  is  yet  far  more  advanced  than  our 
scientific  knowledge  of  meteorology.  No  doubt  men  will 
soonest  endeavour  to  understand  the  phenomena  which  most 
intimately  concern  them  ;  but  the  order  in  which  they  will 
come  to  understand  them  will  depend  upon  the  simplicity, 
the  concreteness,  the  conspicuousness,  and  the  frequency  of 
the  phenomena,  and  upon  the  number  and  perfection  of  the 
implements  of  investigation  which  are  at  command.  Indeed, 
from  one  point  of  view,  it  may  be  urged  that  direct  com- 
plicity with  human  interests  is  often  a  hindrance  to  the 
scientific  investigation  of  phenomena.  Doubtless  the  dis- 
interested calmness  with  which  remote  mathematical  and 
physical  inquiries  are  prosecuted  is  one  secret  •  of  their 
success.  As  Hobbes  remarked,  with  keen  sarcasm,  "even 
the  axioms  of  geometry  would  be  disputed  if  men's  passions 

p  2 


212  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  i. 

were  concerned  with  them."  And  does  not  daily  experience 
teach  ns  the  difficulty  of  getting  our  legislators  to  accept 
the  simplest  and  most  completely  established  principles  0/ 
political  economy  ? 

Thus  there  are  at  least  five  -separate  factors  determining 
the  order  and  rate  at  which  knowledge  progresses  ;  and  it  is 
the  interaction  of  these  factors  which  has  made  the  actual 
order  of  scientific  development  too  complex  to  be  embraced 
in  any  linear  formula,  like  that  proposed  by  Comte.  It  is 
because  it  recognizes  only  one  of  these  factors  that  the 
Comtean  classification  fails  to  represent  the  historic  order  in 
its  true  complexity.  It  makes  a  straight  line  where  it  ought 
to  make  a  system  of  inosculating  spirals. 

Returning  now  from  the  historical  to  the  logical  point  of 
view,  we  have  to  note  a  still  more  fundamental  error  in  the 
Comtean  classification.  That  classification  rests  primarily 
upon  the  distinction,  above  explained,  between  the  abstract 
and  the  concrete  sciences.  That  there  is  such  a  distinction 
cannot  be  questioned ;  but  it  will  not  be  difficult  to  show 
that  Comte  has  made  the  division  incorrectly.  When  Comte 
contrasts  chemistry  with  mineralogy,  because  the  one 
formulates  the  abstract  laws  of  the  aggregation  of  hetero- 
geneous molecules,  while  the  other  applies  these  laws  to 
concrete  instances  actually  realized  in  nature,  under  the 
influence  of  particular  sets  of  conditions, — the  distinction 
must  be  admitted  as  valid.  But  when  he  similarly  contrasts 
biology  with  zoology  and  botany,  because  the  one  formulates 
th.6  general  laws  of  life,  while  the  others  merely  study  the 
conditions  of  existence  of  particular  genera  and  species, 
the  distinction  cannot  be  admitted  as  valid.  In  so  far  as 
zoology  and  botany  are  restricted  to  the  mere  description  and 
enumeration  of  organic  forms,  they  cannot  strictly  be  called 
sciences  at  all,  but  only  branches  of  natural  history.  In  so 
far  as  they  are  anything  more  than  this,  they  are  a  consti- 
tuent part  of  biology.     For  in  biology,  it  is  the  study  of  the 


ch.  vin.]       ORGANIZATION  OF  TIJE  SCIENCES.  213 

concrete  conditions  of  existence  of  living  organisms  which 
lies  at  the  bottom  of  the  whole.  The  laws  of  nutrition, 
reproduction  and  innervation  are  not  abstract  laws,  con- 
sidered apart  from  the  conditions  in  which  they  are  realized, 
like  the  law  of  inertia  in  physics,  or  the  law  of  definite 
proportions  in  chemistry.  They  are  realized  in  each  concrete 
instance  just  as  much  as  certain  chemical  and  physical  laws 
are  realized  in  each  concrete  instance  of  mineralogy.  Or,  in 
other  words,  the  laws  of  biology  are  derivative  uniformities, 
while  the  laws  of  physics  and  chemistry  are  original  unifor- 
mities. Given  the  general  laws  of  molecular  combination 
and  decombination,  and  given  also  a  certain  definite  organiza- 
tion placed  in  a  given  environment,  and  the  laws  of  nutrition, 
reproduction  and  innervation  follow.  Take  away  the  definite 
organization,  and  you  have  nothing  left  but  the  laws  of 
molecular  rearrangement,  which  are  the  subjects  of  physics 
and  chemistry.  This  is  not  identifying  biology  with  physics 
and  chemistry.  The  fact  of  organization  remains,  by  the 
study  of  which  biology  is  an  independent  science.  But  it  is 
a  concrete  science,  since  it  can  study  organization  only  as 
actually  exemplified  in  particular  organisms.  The  same  is 
true  of  sociology,  which  is  simply  an  extension  of  the 
principles  of  biology  and  psychology  to  the  complex 
phenomena  furnished  by  the  mutual  reactions  of  intelligent 
organisms  upon  each  other.  There  is  no  abstract  science  of 
sociology  which  leaves  out  of  sight  the  special  complications 
arising  from  the  interaction  of  concrete,  actually-existing 
communities.  Any  such  abstract  science  is  a  mere  figment 
of  the  imagination,  born  of  Comte's  excessive  passion  for 
systematizing.  The  science  of  sociology  is  the  generalization 
of  the  concrete  phenomena  of  society,  as  recorded  in  history  ; 
and,  in  the  widest  sense,  the  laws  of  sociology  are  the  laws 
of  history.  And,  travelling  back  to  the  other  end  of  the 
series,  a  similar  criticism  must  be  made  upon  astronomy. 
This  science  is  an  application  of  molar  physics  (and  latterly, 


214  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  l 

in  some  degree,  of  molecular  physics  and  chemistry)  to  the 
concrete  phenomena  presented  by  the  heavenly  bodies.  The 
universal  law  of  gravitation  is  indeed  an  abstract  law ; 
it  formulates  a  property  of  bodies.  But  it  holds  good  of 
terrestrial  as  well  as  of  celestial  phenomena:  and  its  applica- 
tion to  either  class  of  phenomena,  in  their  actual  compli- 
cations, constitutes  a  concrete  science. 

These  are  the  considerations  which  irretrievably  demolish 
the  Comtean  classification,  considered  as  an  expression  of  the 
true  relations  between  the  sciences.  It  appears  that  Comte 
has  intermingled  three  abstract  sciences, — mathematics, 
physics,  and  chemistry, — with  three  concrete  sciences, — 
astronomy,  biology,  and  sociology.  He  was  led  into  this 
confusion  by  confounding  the  general  with  the  abstract.  But, 
as  Mr.  Spencer  has  pointed  out,  these  terms  have  different 
meanings.  "Abstractness  means  detachment  from  the  incidents 
of  particular  cases ;  generality  means  manifestation  in 
numerous  cases.  On  the  one  hand  the  essential  nature  of 
some  phenomenon  is  considered,  apart  from  the  pheno- 
mena which  disguise  it.  On  the  other  hand,  the  frequency 
of  recurrence  of  the  phenomenon,  with  or  without  various 
disguising  phenomena,  is  the  thing  considered.  An  abstract 
truth  is  rarely  if  ever  realized  to  perception  in  any  one  case 
of  which  it  is  asserted.  A  general  truth  may  be  realized  to 
perception  in  all  of  the  cases  of  which  it  is  asserted.  .  .  . 
In  other  words,  a  general  truth  colligates  a  number  of  parti- 
cular truths ;  while  an  abstract  truth  colligates  no  particular 
truths,  but  formulates  a  truth  which  certain  phenomena  all 
involve,  though  it  may  be  actually  seen  in  none  of  them."  ! 

Now  there  can  be  no  question  that  if  we  were  to  substitute 
the  words  general  and  special  for  the  words  abstract  and 
concrete,  in  the  Comtean  classification,  that  classification 
would  express,  to  a  certain  extent,  a  true  distinction.  No 
doubt  chemistry  and  biology  are  general  sciences,  while 
1  Spencer,  Classification  of  the  Sc'cnccs,  1864,  pp.  7 — 9. 


ch.  viii.]       ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES.  215 

mineralogy,  zoology  and  botany  are  more  or  less  special 
sciences.  But  the  distinction  between  abstract  and  concrete 
is  by  far  the  deeper  distinction,  and  because  the  Comtean 
classification  incorrectly  formulates  it,  there  is  no  alternative 
but  to  regard  that  classification  as  incurably  faulty. 

The  above  criticism,  however,  supplies  us  with  materials 
for  making  a  better  one.  As  the  case  now  stands,  we  have 
three  abstract  sciences, — mathematics,  physics,  and  chemistry. 
Yet  a  distinction  in  degree  of  abstractness  arises  between 
mathematics  and  the  other  two.  All  three  were  originally 
obtained  by  generalization  from  concrete  phenomena.  All 
mathematical  analysis  starts  from  numeration,  as  all  geometry 
starts  from  measuring.  Nevertheless,  mathematics  has 
utterly  outgrown  the  processes  of  concrete  observation,  and 
is  a  purely  deductive  science,  dealing  merely  with  number 
and  figure,  or  what  may  be  called  the  blank  forms  of  pheno- 
mena. It  thus  becomes  more  nearly  allied  to  logic  than  to 
the  physical  sciences ;  and  indeed  the  chief  difference 
between  the  two  is  that  logic  deals  with  qualitative  relations 
only,  while  mathematics  deals  with  relations  that  are  quanti- 
tative. On  the  other  hand,  molar  physics,  molecular  physics, 
and  chemistry,  dealing  with  abstract  laws  of  motion  and 
force  that  are  gained  from  experience  of  concrete  phenomena, 
and  appealing  at  every  step  to  the  concrete  processes  of 
observation  and  experiment,  may  be  distinguished  as  abstract- 
concrete  sciences.  These  sciences  analyze  concrete  pheno- 
mena, in  order  to  formulate  the  working  of  their  factors. 
"  In  every  case  it  is  the  aim  to  decompose  the  phenomenon, 
and  formulate  its  components  apart  from  one  another;  or 
some  two  or  three  apart  from  the  rest."  The  problem  is  to 
ascertain  the  laws  of  molar  motion,  or  molecular  vibration, 
or  atomic  rearrangement,  not  as  these  laws  are  actually  realized 
to  perception  in  any  concrete  example,  "but  as  they  would  be 
displayed  in  the  absence  of  those  minute  interferences  which 


216  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

cannot  be  altogether  avoided."  Conversely,  when  we  come 
to  the  concrete  sciences, — astronomy,  geology,  biology,  psy- 
chology, and  sociology, — our  business  is  no  longer  analysis 
but  synthesis.  "Not  to  formulate  the  factors  of  phenomena 
is  now  the  object;  but  to  formulate  the  phenomena  resulting 
from  these  factors  under  the  various  conditions  which  the 
Universe  presents." 

Thus  we  have  distinguished  three  orders  of  sciences, — the 
abstract,  the  abstract-concrete,  and  the  concrete.  Our  task 
is  next  to  arrange  the  concrete  sciences  in  some  convenient 
and  justifiable  order.  Mr.  Spencer  has  constructed  an 
elaborate  tableau  of  these  sciences,  which  is  at  once  elegant 
and  accurate,  but  which,  for  ordinary  purposes,  may  profit- 
ably be  abridged  and  condensed.  Our  principle  of  abridgment 
shall  be  a  simple  one.  Since,  in  the  concrete  sciences,  our 
object  is  to  interpret  the  various  orders  of  phenomena  syn- 
thetically, as  actually  manifested  throughout  that  portion  of 
the  universe  which  is  accessible  to  our  researches, — we  cannot 
do  better  than  arrange  these  sciences  in  the  order  in  which 
their  subject-phenomena  have  begun  to  be  manifested  in  the 
course  of  universal  Evolution.1  First  in  order  come  the 
astronomical  phenomena  presented  by  the  genesis  of  the 
solar  system  from  a  cooling  and  contracting  mass  of  vapour, 
and  the  resulting  rotatory  motions  of  its  members.  Next 
come  the  geological  phenomena  presented  by  each  cooling 
and  contracting  planet,  but  completely  accessible  to  us  only 
in  the  case  of  the  earth.  With  the  origin  of  life  upon  the  earth, 
already  considerably  advanced  in  its  development,  biological 
phenomena  begin  to  be  presented.  Still  later,  with  the 
appearance  of  animals  possessing  comparatively  complex 
nervous  systems,  begin  the  phenomena  of  consciousness,  con- 
stituting the  subject-matter  of  psychology.     Finally,  with 

1  See,  in  this  connection,  a  very  interesting  letter  by  the  distinguished 
geologist  M.  Cotta,  ;u  La  Philosophic  Positive,  mai-juin.  1669  ;  torn.  iv.  p. 
486, 


en.  viii.]        ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES.  217 

the  advent  of  creatures  sufficiently  intelligent  to  congregate 
for  mutual  assistance  in  permanent  family-groups,  and  by 
the  aid  of  language  to  transmit  their  organized  experience 
from  generation  to  generation,  there  begin  the  phenomena  of 
sociology. 

The  logical  correctness  of  this  threefold  division  of  the 
sciences  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  the  several  sciences  which 
we  have  arranged  together  in  each  group  cohere  strongly 
among  themselves,  while  they  do  not  strongly  cohere  with 
the  sciences  arranged  in  either  of  the  other  groups.  The 
concrete  sciences,  for  example,  all  agree  in  having  for  their 
subject-matter  the  study  of  the  aggregates  of  sensible  exist- 
ences, or  of  the  relations  and  forces  which  sensible  existences 
manifest  in  the  state  of  aggregation.  Sidereal  Astronomy 
deals  with  stellar  aggregates  scattered,  through  space  just  as 
we  find  them.  "  Planetary  Astronomy,  cutting  out  of  this 
all-including  aggregate  that  relatively  minute  part  constitut- 
ing the  solar  system,  deals  with  this  as  a  whole."  Out  of 
the  number  of  aggregates  which  make  up  the  whole  with 
which  planetary  astronomy  thus  deals,  Geology  selects  the  one 
most  easily  accessible,  and  studies  that  one  in  detail.  Again, 
among  the  many  rearrangements  of  matter  and  motion  which 
go  on  upon  the  earth's  surface,  there  are  found  a  number  of 
small  aggregates  which  Biology  distinguishes  as  vital,  and 
accordingly  selects  as  constituting  its  own  special  subject- 
matter.  Among  the  many  functions  which,  taken  together, 
make  up  the  life  of  these  organic  aggregates,  there  are  sundry 
"  specialized  aggregates  of  functions  which  adjust  the  actions 
3>f  organisms  to  the  complex  activities  surrounding  them " ; 
and  these  specialized  aggregates  of  functions  form  the  sub- 
ject-mattu  of  Psychology.  Lastly  Sociology  "considers  each 
tribe  and  nation  as  an  aggregate  presenting  multitudinous 
phenomena,  simultaneous  and  successive,  that  are  held 
together  as.  parts  of  one  combination."  So  that,  from  first  to 
last,  the  object  of  the  concrete  sciences  is  to  describe  the 


218  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

history  and  formulate  the  modes  of  action  of  actually  exist- 
ing aggregates,  from  the  time  when  they  begin  to  exist  aa 
aggregates  down  to  the  time  when  they  cease  to  exist  as 
aggregates. 

It  is  quite  otherwise  with  the  abstract-concrete  sciences. 
By  all  these  sciences,  actually  existing  aggregates  are  im- 
plicitly ignored  ;  "  and  a  property,  or  a  connected  set  of  pro- 
perties, exclusively  occupies  attention."  It  matters  not  to 
Molar  Physics  "  whether  the  moving  mass  it  considers  is  a 
planet  or  molecule,  a  dead  stick  thrown  into  the  river  or  the 
living  dog  that  leaps  after  it:  in  any  case  the  curve  described 
by  the  moving  mass  conforms  to  the  same  laws."  So  when 
Molecular  Physics  investigates  "  the  relation  between  the 
changing  bulk  of  matter  and  the  changing  quantity  of  mole- 
cular motion  it  contains,"  constant  account  is  taken  of  con- 
nected sets  of  properties,  but  no  account  whatever  is  taken  of 
particular  aggregates  of  matter.  The  conclusions  reached 
apply  equally  to  Chimborazo  and  to  a  tea-kettle,  to  the 
solidification  of  the  earth's  crust  and  to  the  cracking  of  a 
pipe  by  frozen  water.  Similarly  in  Chemistry,  while  "  ascer- 
taining the  affinities  and  atomic  equivalence  of  carbon,  the 
chemist  has  nothing  to  do  with  any  aggregate.  He  deals 
with  carbon  in  the  abstract,  as  something  considered  apart 
from  quantity,  form,  or  appearance,  or  temporary  state  of 
combination  ;  and  conceives  it  as  the  possessor  of  powers  or 
properties,  whence  the  special  phenomena  he  describes  result ; 
the  ascertaining  of  all  these  powers  or  properties  being  his 
sole  aim."  So  that,  from  first  to  last,  the  object  of  the 
abstract-concrete  sciences  is  to  give  an  account  "  of  some 
order  of  properties,  general  or  special ;  not  caring  about  the 
other  traits  of  an  aggregate  displaying  them,  and  not  recog- 
nizing aggregates  at  all  further  than  is  implied  by  discussion 
of  the  particular  order  of  properties." 

Finally,  the  abstract  sciences  deal  solely  with  relations 
among  aggregates  or  among  properties,  or  with  the  relation* 


ch.viil]        ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES. 


219 


between  aggregates  and  properties,  or  with  relations  aLtong 
relations;  but  take  no  further  account  of  aggregates  or  of 
properties  than  is  implied  in  the  discussion  of  a  particular 
order  of  relations.  For  example,  "  the  same  Logical  formula 
applies  equally  well,  whether  its  terms  are  men  and  their 
deaths,  crystals  and  their  planes  of  cleavage,  or  letters  and 
their  sounds.  And  how  entirely  Mathematics  concerns  itself 
with  relations,  we  see  on  remembering  that  it  has  just  the 
same  expression  for  the  characters  of  an  infinitesimal  tri- 
angle, as  for  those  of  the  triangle  which  has  Sirius  for  its 
apex  and  the  diameter  of  the  earth's  orbit  for  its  base." x 

Since  then,  "  these  three  groups  of  sciences  are,  respec- 
tively, accounts  of  aggregates,  accounts  of  properties,  accounts 
of  relations,  it  is  manifest  that  the  divisions  between  them 
are  not  simply  perfectly  clear,  but  that  the  chasms  between 
them  are  absolute."     Thus  we  arrive  at  the  following 


Classification  of  the  Sciences. 


Abstract  Sciences, 
dealing  with  relations,  that  are 


Abstract-Concrete 
Sciences, 
dealing  with   properties,  that 
are  manifested 


Concrete  Sciences, 
dealing  with  aggregates  (with 
their    properties   and   rela- 
tions), as  actually  exei  upli- 
fted 


(  qualitative ; 
(  quantitative  ; 
/in  movements  of  mass- 
es; 
in  movements  of  mole- 
cules ;  and  in  aggrega- 
tions of  molecules  that 
are  homogeneous  ; 
in  aggregations  of  mole- 
cule that  are  hetero- 
\     geneous ; 

/in  stellar  and  planetary 
systems  ; 
in  the  earth ; 
in  living  organisms ; 
in  the  functions  which 
adjust  organic  actions 
to  specific  relations  in 
the  environment ; 
in  the  mutual  relations 
of     living     organisms 
grouped  into  commu- 
\     nities  ; 


Logic. 
Mathematics. 

Molar  Physics. 


Molecular  Physic;), 


Chemistry. 

Astronomy. 

Geology. 
Biology. 

Psychology. 


Sociology 


1  Spencer,  Exeat  Discussions,  pp.  107 — 110. 


220  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY,  [ft.  i. 

It  remains  to  add  that  each  of  the  five  concrete  sciences 
may,  for  the  purposes  of  our  philosophic  synthesis,  be  advan- 
tageously regarded  as  consisting  of  two  portions.  In  the 
first  place,  we  have  Astronomy — in  the  time-honoured  sense 
of  the  word — which  deals  with  the  motions  of  stellar  and 
planetary  masses  in  their  present  state  of  moving  equili- 
brium ;  and  Astrogeny,  as  it  is  now  frequently  termed,  which 
seeks  to  ascertain  the  genesis  of  these  masses  and  of  their 
motions. 

Geology  admits  of  a  similar  division.  The  general  laws  of 
the  •redistribution  of  gases  and  liquids  over  the  earth's  sur- 
face, which  we  commonly  call  meteorology,  and  the  general 
laws  of  the  formation  of  solid  compounds,  which  we  call 
mineralogy,  unite  to  furnish  us  with  a  general  doctrine  of  the 
massive  and  molecular  motions  going  on  at  any  given  epoch 
and  under  any  given  geographic  condition  of  the  earth's  sur- 
face. But  geology  has  another  clearly-defined  province ; 
which  is  to  formulate  the  general  order  of  sequence  among 
terrestrial  epochs  ;  to  ascertain  the  genesis  of  the  various 
molar  and  molecular  redistributions  going  on  at  any  given 
period,  by  regarding  them  as  consequent  upon  the  relations 
between  a  cooling  rotating  spheroid  and  a  neighbouring  sun 
which  imparts  to  it  thermal,  luminous,  and  actinic  undula- 
tions. This  part  of  the  science  is  already  currently  known 
as  Geogeny.  And  here  we  touch  upon  the  essential  point  of 
difference  between  geology  and  astronomy,  regarded  as 
sciences  of  development,  which  it  seems  to  me  that  M. 
Wyrouboff,  in  his  interesting  essay  upon  this  subject,  has 
quite  lost  sight  of.  Both  astrogeny  and  geogeny  are  con- 
cerned with  the  phenomena  presented  by  a  cooling  and  con- 
tracting body,  of  the  figure  known  as  a  spheroid  of  rotation. 
In  the  one  case  this  body  is  the  sun,  which  once  more  than 
filled  the  orbit  of  Neptune ;  in  the  other  case  it  is  the  earth, 
which  at  first  more  than  filled  the  moon's  orbit.  But  together 
with  this  point  of  community  between  the  two  sciences,  there 


cu.  via.]        ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES.  221 

is  a  fundamental  difference  between  them.  "While  astrogeny 
contemplates  the  contracting  spheroid  chiefly  as  a  generator 
of  other  spheroids,  which  are  from  time  to  time  formed  from 
its  equatorial  belt,  detached  as  often  as  the  centrifugal  force 
at  its  equator  begins  to  exceed  the  force  of  gravitation  at  the 
same  place ;  on  the  other  hand,  geogeny  contemplates  the 
contracting  spheroid  only  with  reference  to  the  redistributions 
of  matter  and  motion  going  on  within  itself,  and  partly  con- 
sequent upon  its  cooling.  Partly  consequent,  I  say,  for  there 
is  one  further  point  of  difference  between  the  two  sciences. 
Astrogeny  contemplates  its  spheroid  as  a  radiator  of  heat, 
but  neglects,  as  not  affecting  its  own  peculiar  problems,  the 
heat  which  the  spheroid  may  receive  by  radiation  from  other 
masses.  But  geogeny  not  only  studies  its  spheroid  as  a 
radiator  of  heat,  but  includes,  as  of  the  highest  importance, 
the  heat  which  it  receives  from  an  external  source. 

In  Biology  also  the  twofold  point  of  view  is  obvious, 
according  as  we  study  structures  and  functions  in  mobile 
equilibrium  at  any  particular  epoch,  or  on  the  other  hand  the 
process  of  adaptation  which  structures  and  functions  undergo 
as  the  conditions  of  existence  change  from  epoch  to  epoch. 
The  first  of  these  studies  gives  rise  to  the  sciences  of  anatomy 
and  physiology,  as  well  as  to  the  subsidiary  science  of  patho- 
logy. On  the  other  hand  Biogeny  comprises  embryology, 
morphology,  and  questions  relating  to  the  origin  of  species. 
Psychology  too  admits  of  a  similar  division,  into  the  depart- 
ment which  embraces  the  laws  of  association,  as  geneialized 
by  James  Mill  and  further  illustrated  by  Mr.  Bain;  and 
Psychogeny,  which  endeavours  to  interpret  the  genesis  of 
intellectual  faculties  and  emotional  feelings  in  the  race, 
and  their  slow  modifications  throughout  countless  gene- 
rations. 

Finally  in  Sociology  this  principle  of  twofold  division  is 
so  manifest  that  for  the  past  thirty  years  the  distinction  has 
been  currently,  though  too  vaguely,  drawn  between  "  social 


228  COS  AT  TO  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  l 

statics  "  and  "  social  dynamics."  Obviously  we  may  either 
study  the  phenomena  arising  from  social  aggregation,  as  they 
are  manifested  under  any  given  set  of  conditions  ;  or  we  may 
study  the  phenomena  of  progress  manifested  in  the  relations 
of  each  epoch  to  preceding  and  succeeding  epochs.  In  the 
first  case,  we  have  the  sub-sciences  of  political  economy, 
ethics,  jurisprudence,  etc. ;  in  the  second  case  we  have 
Sociogeny,  or  the  so-called  "  science  of  history." 

In  each  of  the  five  concrete  sciences,  therefore,  there  is  a 
sub-science  which  deals  with  the  genesis  or  evolution  of  the 
phenomena  which  form  the  subject-matter  of  the  science  ; 
and  it  is  with  these  sciences  of  genesis  that  we  shall  chiefly 
be  concerned  throughout  the  second  part  of  this  work.  It  is 
of  little  consequence,  however,  whether  the  symmetrical 
nomenclature  here  used  be  adopted  or  not.  Excessive  sym- 
metry in  naming  is  a  mark  of  pedantry  rather  than  of  accu- 
racy; and  questions  of  terminology  become  important  only 
when  differences  of  opinion  are  involved.  In  reasoning  about 
the  Test  of  Truth,  it  makes  a  great  difference  whether  we  use 
the  term  "  incredible  "  or  the  term  "  inconceivable."  In  the 
present  discussion,  it  makes  a  great  difference  whether  we 
speak  of  biology  as  an  "  abstract "  or  as  a  "  concrete  "  science. 
But  provided  we  bear  in  mind  the  twofold  character  of  the 
problems  which  it  is  the  office  of  biology  to  solve,  it  makes 
little  difference  whether  or  not  we  employ  such  a  term  as 
"  biogeny " ;  and  such  expressions  will  be  used,  in  the 
present  work,  only  when  it  is  desirable  to  avoid  tedious 
circumlocution. 

If  now  we  proceed  to  inquire  whether  our  revised  classifi- 
cation can  be  made  to  afford  us  a  bird's-eye  view  of  the 
historic  progression  of  the  respective  sciences,  we  shall  find 
that  it  cannot  be  made  to  do  so.  The  classification  has  been 
made  upon  purely  logical  grounds  ;  and  no  attempt  has  been 
made  to  express  the  order  of  historic  progression,  simply 
because,  as  I  have  already  shown,  that  order  cannot  be  ex* 


a.Ti.1.]        OIlGAXIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES.  223 

pressed  by  any  linear  series.  If  we  were  to  represent  the 
respective  rates  of  progress  in  the  different  sciences  by  a 
device  familiar  to  statisticians ;  denoting  the  sciences  by  a 
series  of  curves,  starting  from  the  same  point,  and  constructed 
with  reference  to  a  common  abscissa  ;  marking  off  the  abscissa 
into  equal  sections  and  sub-sections  answering  to  centuries 
and  decades;  and  expressing  the  progress  of  each  science  at 
each  decade  by  the  length  of  the  ordinate  erected  at  the  cor- 
responding sub-section ;  we  should  see  these  curves  from  first 
to  last  intersecting  each  other  in  the  most  complicated  and 
apparently  capricious  manner.  Probably  the  only  conspi- 
cuously persistent  relation  would  be  that  between  the  entire 
set  of  curves  representing  the  concrete  organic  sciences,  and 
all  the  rest  of  the  curves  taken  together ;  of  which  two  sets 
the  former  would,  on  the  whole,  have  the  shorter  ordinates. 

But  on  sufficiently  close  inspection,  we  should  detect, 
between  the  sets  of  curves  representing  the  abstract,  the 
abstract-concrete,  and  the  concrete  sciences,  a  relation  equally 
constant,  and  far  more  interesting,  though  less  conspicuous. 
We  should  observe  that  all  along  the  progress  of  the  concrete 
sciences  has  determined  that  of  the  abstract-concrete  and 
abstract  sciences,  and  has  been  determined  by  it ;  that,  from 
first  to  last,  synthesis  and  analysis  have  gone  hand  in  hand. 
Such  has  been  the  complex  order  of  progression.  Men  have 
begun  by  grouping  concrete  phenomena  empirically.  When 
the  groups  have  become  wide  enough  to  allow  the  disclosure 
of  some  mode  of  force  uniformly  manifested  in  them,  the 
operations  of  this  force  have  begun  to  be  experimentally  or 
deductively  studied,  all  disturbing  conditions  being  as  far 
as  possible  eliminated  or  left  out  of  the  account  ;  and  thus 
have  arisen  the  analytic  or  abstract-concrete  sciences.  And 
finally,  as  fast  as  the  laws  of  the  various  manifestations  of 
force  have  been  generalized,  the  synthetical  interpretation  of 
phenomena  has  advanced  by  the  aid  of  the  knowledge  of 
these  laws.     As  Mr.  Spencer  well  expresses  it:  "there  has 


224  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  l 

all  along  "been  higher  specialization,  that  there  might  he  a 
larger  generalization  ;  and  a  deeper  analysis,  that  there  might 
be  a  better  synthesis.     Each  larger  generalization  has  lifted 
sundry  specializations  still  higher;  and  each  better  synthesis 
has  prepared  the  way  for  still  deeper  analysis."     Long  before 
Archimedes  founded  statics,  the  earliest  branch  of  abstract- 
concrete  science,  empirical  generalizations  had  been  made  in 
everyoneof  the  concrete  sciences.  Astronomy  had  accomplished 
the  preliminary  task  of  classifying  stars  according  to  their 
times  of  rising  and  setting,  of  tracing  the  apparent  courses  of 
the  planets,  of  determining  the  order  of  recurrence  of  lunar 
eclipses,  and  of  constructing  chronological  cycles.     In  geo- 
logy some  scanty  progress  had  been  made,  in  classifying  the 
physical  features  of  the  earth's  surface,  and  in  ascertaining 
the  properties  of  a  limited  number  of  minerals.     In  biology, 
classification  had  been  carried  sufficiently  far  to  enable  an 
acute  observer,  like   Aristotle,  to  distinguish  between   the 
selachians,  or  shark-tribe,  and  the  bony  fishes ;  and  a  con- 
siderable amount   of    anatomical   and   physiological   know- 
ledge had  been  acquired,  as  may  be  seen  in  the  works  of 
Hippokrates.      Even  in  psychology  there  had  been  made 
a  crude  classification  of  the  intellectual  and  emotional  func- 
tions ;  and  the  "  Politics  "  of  Aristotle  show  us  the  statical 
division    of    sociology   already   empirically   organized.      To 
such  a  point  had  the  synthetic  concrete  sciences  arrived  in 
antiquity  ;  and  this  point  they  did  not  pass  until  the  analytic 
abstract-concrete  sciences  had  furnished  them  with  factors 
with  which  to  work.     Astronomy  must  still  remain  in  the 
empirical  stage    until   molar  physics  had  generalized   the 
abstract  laws  of  falling  bodies,  of  the  composition  of  forces, 
and  of  tangential  momentum.     Geology  could  not  advance 
until  molecular  physics  had  supplied  the  general  principles 
of  thermal  radiation  and  conduction,  of  evaporation  and  pre- 
cipitation, condensation  and  rarefaction.    Biology  was  obliged 
to  wait  until  chemistry  had  thrown  light  upon  the  molecular 


ch.  viii.]        ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES.  225 

constitution  of  the  various  tissues  and  anatomical  elements, 
and  had  furnished  the  means  of  explaining  synthetically 
such  organic  processes  as  digestion  and  assimilation.  But, 
as  we  have  already  seen,  the  obligation  has  not  been  all  on 
one  side.  The  services  rendered  by  the  analytic  to  the  syn- 
thetic sciences  have  been  all  along  repaid  by  services  no  less 
essential.  Thus  the  great  principle  of  molar  physics — the 
law  of  gravitation — could  not  be  generalized  from  terrestrial 
phenomena  alone,  but  had  to  wait  until  astronomic  observa- 
tions had  revealed  the  true  forms  of  the  planetary  orbits  and 
the  rates  of  their  velocities.  Thus  molecular  physics  has 
received  important  hints  from  mineralogy,  the  properties  of 
crystals  having  rendered  indispensable  aid  in  the  discoveries 
of  polarization  and  double  refraction,  and  therefore  in  the  final 
verification  of  the  undulatory  theory.  And  thus  also  in  late 
years  the  researches  of  Dumas,  Laurent,  Gerhardt,  and  Wil- 
liamson on  the  structure  of  organic  molecules  have  reacted 
upon  the  whole  domain  of  inorganic  chemistry,  regenerating 
the  doctrine  of  types,  supplying  the  fundamental  conceptions 
of  atomicity  and  quantivalence,  replacing  the  dualistic  theory 
of  Berzelius  by  the  theory  of  saturation  and  substitution,  and 
inaugurating  a  radical  revolution  in  chemical  nomenclature. 
I  may  note  in  passing  that  this  great  revolution,  which  has 
rendered  the  science  of  only  half-a-generation  ago  com- 
pletely antiquated,  and  has  obliged  so  many  of  us  to  unlearn 
the  chemistry  which  we  learned  at  college,  furnishes  a  crucial 
disproof  of  the  Comtean  theory  of  the  way  in  which  a 
scientific  revolution  should  occur.  We  see  that  the  chemistry 
of  inorganic  bodies  was  not  placed  upon  its  true  foundation 
until  the  study  of  organic  chemistry  had  supplied  to  the 
whole  science  its  fundamental  principles ;  in  spite  of  Comte, 
who  always  scouted  at  organic  chemistry  as  an  illegitimate 
science,  and  predicted  the  speedy  extension  of  the  dualistic 
theory  to  organic  compounda 

Space  permitting,  I  might  go   on  and    point    out  more 

VOL.  I.  Q 


226  COSMIC  PHILOSOPlTY.  [pt.  i. 

minutely  how  the  allied  sciences  in  each  grand  division  have 
continually  reacted  upon  each  other;  how  synthesis  has 
directly  aided  synthesis,  and  how  analysis  has  directly  aided 
analysis  ;  how  the  analytic  and  the  simpler  synthetic  sciences 
have  from  time  to  time  furnished  new  hints  to  mathematics ; 
and  how  all  the  other  sciences,  in  all  the  divisions,  from 
mathematics  to  sociology,  have  aided  the  progress  of  logic, 
supplying  it  with  new  methods  of  investigation  and  fresh 
canons  of  proof.  But  such  a  detailed  survey  is  not  needful 
for  the  purposes  of  this  work.  Let  us  rather  return  for  a 
moment  to  our  criticism  of  Comte,  and,  having  already 
examined  his  organization  of  the  sciences  both  from  the 
historical  and  from  the  logical  point  of  view,  let  us  endeavour 
to  render  an  impartial  verdict  as  to  the  philosophic  value  oi 
his  achievement. 

If  tried  by  its  conformity  to  the  ideal  standard  of  perfec- 
tion furnished  by  the  scientific  and  philosophical  knowledge 
of  the  present  day,  the  Comtean  classification  of  the  sciences 
must  undoubtedly  be  pronounced,  in  nearly  all  essential 
respects,  a  failure.  As  a  representation  of  the  historic  order 
of  progression  among  the  different  sciences,  it  must  be 
regarded  as  the  imperfect  expression  of  an  inadequately 
comprehended  set  of  truths.  We  have  seen  that  this  order 
of  progression  depends  upon  at  least  five  interacting  factors  ; 
upon  the  simplicity,  the  concreteness,  the  conspicuousness, 
and  the  frequency  of  the  phenomena  investigated,  and  upon 
the  comparative  number  and  perfection  of  the  implements  of 
investigation.  Of  these  five  factors,  the  Comtean  series  takes 
into  account  only  the  first,  or  at  the  utmost  only  the  first  and 
the  last.  For  this  reason  it  unduly  simplifies  the  order  of 
progression.  Doubtless  it  is  correct  to  say  that,  other  things 
equal,  the  simpler  and  more  general  phenomena  have  been 
interpreted  earlier  than  the  more  complex  and  special 
phenomena  ;  but  the  other  things  have  not  been  equal.  And 
consequently  scientific  evolution  has  not  proceeded  uniformly, 


PH.  viii.]       ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES.  227 

5n  a  straight  line,  but  rhythmically,  in  a  plexus  of  curved 
lines. 

As  a  representation  of  the  logical  order  of  subordination 
among  the  different  sciences,  the  Comtean  series  is  equally 
faulty.  While  it  correctly  formulates  sundry  of  the  minor 
relations  of  dependence,  as  well  as  one  relation  of  great  im- 
portance,— that  of  the  dependence  of  organic  upon  inorganic 
science, — it  incorrectly  formulates  the  grand  distinction  of 
all, — the  distinction  between  abstract  and  concrete,  between 
analytic  and  synthetic,  science.  It  mixes  together  science? 
formed  by  the  analysis  and  synthesis  of  concrete  pheno- 
mena, and  a  science  which  is  purely  abstract.  It  strives  to 
represent,  by  a  linear  series,  relations  which  are  so  complex 
that  they  can  be  adequately  represented  only  in  space  of 
three  dimensions. 

It  is  therefore  indisputable  that  the  Comtean  classification, 
viewed  absolutely,  is  a  failure.  The  advance  of  science  has 
refuted  instead  of  confirming  it.  It  has  become  rather  an 
encumbrance  than  a  help  to  the  understanding  of  the  true 
relations  among  the  sciences.  Shall  we  then,  with  Prof. 
Huxley,  say  that  the  classification,  and  with  it  the  whole 
Comtean  philosophy  of  science,  is  "  absolutely  worthless  V'1 
I  think  not.  We  might  say  as  much  of  Oken  or  Hegel,  but 
hardly  of  Stewart  or  Ampere ;  far  less  of  Comte.  Mr. 
Spencer  speaks  more  justly  of  his  great  antagonist  when  he 
saj  s  :  "  Let  it  by  no  means  be  supposed  from  all  I  have  said, 
that  I  do  not  regard  M.  Comte's  speculations  as  of  great 
value.  True  or  untrue,  his  system  as  a  whole  has  doubtless 
produced  important  and  salutary  revolutions  of  thought  in 
many  minds ;  and  will  doubtless  do  so  in  many  more. 
Doubtless,  too,  not  a  few  of  those  who  dissent  from  his 
general  views  have  been  healthfully  stimulated  by  the  con- 
sideration of  them.  The  presentation  of  scientific  knowledge 
and  method  as  a  whole,  whether  rightly  or  torongly  coordinated^ 
1  Huxley,  Lay  Sermons,  p.  172, 


228  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

cannot  have  failed  greatly  to  widen  the  conceptions  of  most  of 
his  readers.  And  he  has  done  especial  service  by  familiariz- 
ing men  with  the  idea  of  a  social  science  based  on  the  other 
sciences.  Beyond  which  benefits  resulting  from  the  general 
character  and  scope  of  his  philosophy,  I  believe  that  there 
are  scattered  through  his  pages  many  large  ideas  that  are 
valuable  not  only  as  stimuli,  but  for  their  actual  truth." 

This  passage  comes  so  near  to  appreciating  Comte's  true 
philosophic  position,  that  one  is  surprised  to  find  Mr.  Spencer, 
after  all,  stating  that  position  inadequately.  Though  he  sees  . 
clearly  that,  whether  rightly  or  wrongly  coordinated,  the 
presentation  of  scientific  knowledge  and  method  as  a  whole, 
must  greatly  have  widened  people's  conceptions  ;  he  does  not 
explicitly  recognize  that  this  presentation  of  scientific 
knowledge  and  method  as  a  whole  was,  in  spite  of  the  wrong 
coordination,  a  step  sufficient  of  itself  to  change  and  renovate 
the  entire  attitude  of  philosophy.  He  tells  us  that  persons 
like  Prof.  Huxley,  Prof.  Tyndall,  and  himself,  stand  sub- 
stantially in  the  same  position  in  which  they  would  have 
stood  had  Comte  never  written ;  that,  "  declining  his  re- 
organization of  scientific  doctrine,  they  possess  this  scientific 
doctrine  in  its  pre-existing  state,  as  the  common  heritage 
bequeathed  by  the  past  to  the  present."  And  elsewhere  he 
tells  us  that  Comte  "designated  by  the  term  'Positive 
Philosophy '  all  that  definitely-established  knowledge  which 
men  of  science  have  been  gradually  organizing  into  a  coherent 
body  of  doctrine."  It  seems  to  me,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
the  coherent  body  of  doctrine  was  the  very  thing  which  no 
scientific  thinker  had  ever  so  much  as  attempted  to  construct, 
though  Bacon,  no  doubt,  foresaw  the  necessity  of  some  such 
construction.  M.  Littre*  may  well  inquire  what  is  meant  by 
the  great  scientific  minds  whose  traditions  Comte  is  said  to 
have  followed.  "  Does  it  mean  the  philosophers  ?  Why, 
they  have  one  and  all  belonged  to  theology  or  metaphysics, 
and  it  is  not  their  tradition  which  Comte  has  followed.    Does 


ch  viii.]        ORGANIZATION  OF  TEE  SCIENCES.  229 

it  mean  those  who  have  illustrated  particular  sciences  ?  Well, 
since  they  have  not  philosophized,  Corate  can  hardly  have 
received  his  philosophy  from  them.  That  which  is  recent  in 
the  Positive  Philosophy,  that  which  is  Comte's  invention,  is 
the  conception  and  construction  of  a  philosophy,  by  drawing 
from  particular  sciences,  and  from  the  teaching  of  great 
scientific  minds,  such  groups  of  truths  as  could  be  coordinated 
on  the  positive  method." 

That  the  mode  in  which  Comte  effected  this  coordination 
was  imperfect,  may  affect  our  estimate  of  the  amount  of  his 
achievements,  but  it  cannot  affect  our  estimate  of  their 
character.  The  former  is  a  merely  personal  question,  in- 
teresting chiefly  to  disciples  ;  the  latter  is  a  general  question, 
interesting  to  all  of  us  who  are  students  of  philosophy.  For 
the  purposes  of  impartial  criticism,  the  great  point  is,  not 
that  the  attempt  was  a  complete  success,  but  that  the  attempt 
was  made.  When  knowledge  is  advancing  with  such  giant 
strides  as  at  present,  it  is  hardly  possible  to  construct  a 
general  doctrine  which  forty  years  of  further  inquiry  and 
criticism  will  not  considerably  modify  and  partially  invali- 
date. It  is  now  forty  years  since  Comte  framed  his  philo- 
sophy of  science;  and  during  that  period  there  is  not  a 
single  department  of  knowledge,  outside  of  pure  mathematics, 
which  has  not  undergone  a  veritable  revolution.  Molecular 
physics  has  been  revolutionized  by  the  discovery  of  the 
correlation  of  forces ;  and  the  deduction  of  that  principle,  as 
well  as  of  the  principle  of  virtual  velocities,  from  the  law  of 
the  persistence  of  force,  has  placed  molar  physics  also  upon 
a  new  basis.  Chemistry,  as  we  have  seen,  has  undergone 
changes  nearly  as  sweeping  as  those  brought  about  by 
Lavoisier;  changes  which  have  thoroughly  renovated  our 
conceptions  of  the  phenomenal  constitution  of  matter. 
Sidereal  astronomy  has  been  brought  into  existence  as  a 
science ;  and  we  have  learned  how  to  make  a  ray  of  light, 
journeying  toward  us  from  the  remotest  regions  of  space, 


230  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY  [pt.  i. 

tell  us  of  the  molecular  constitution  of  the  matter  from 
which  it  started.  Geology  has  been  robbed  of  its  cataclysms, 
and  periods  of  universal  extinction ;  while  both  astrogeny 
and  geogeny  have  assumed  a  new  character  through  the 
wide  extension  of  the  theory  of  nebular  genesis.  There  is 
not  a  truth  in  biology  which  has  not  been  shown  up  in  a 
new  light  by  the  victory  of  the  cell-doctrine;  the  discovery 
of  natural  selection  has  entirely  remodelled  our  conceptions 
of  organic  development ;  and  the  dynamical  theory  of  stimulus 
has  wrought  great  changes,  which  are  but  the  beginning  of 
greater  changes,  in  pathology,  in  hygiene,  and  in  the  treat- 
ment of  disease.  Psychology,  in  both  its  branches,  has 
received  a  scientific  constitution  by  the  establishment  of 
the  primary  laws  of  association,  and  the  fundamental  law  of 
the  growth  of  intelligence.  And  sociology,  both  statical  and 
dynamical,  has  undergone  changes  equally  important,  as  we 
shall  see  when  we  come  to  treat  specially  of  that  subject. 
All  this  makes  up  an  aggregate  of  scientific  achievement 
such  as  the  world  has  never  before  witnessed  in  anything 
like  an  equally  short  interval.  So  enormous  is  the  accumu- 
lated effect  of  all  these  discoveries  upon  the  general  habits 
of  thought,  that  the  men  of  the  present  day  who  have  fully 
kept  pace  with  the  scientific  movement,  are  separated  from 
the  men  whose  education  ended  in  1830,  by  an  immeasurably 
wider  gulf  than  has  ever  before  divided  one  progressive 
generation  of  men  from  their  predecessors.  And  when  we 
add  that  both  the  history  of  science  and  the  general  principles 
upon  which  discoveries  are  made  have  been,  during  this 
interval  and  largely  through  the  impulse  given  by  Comte 
himself,  more  thoroughly  studied  than  ever  before, — we  may 
begin  to  realize  how  far  the  resources  which  we  possess  for 
constructing  a  synthesis  of  the  sciences,  exceed  the  resources 
which  were  at  his  disposal.  We  shall  realize  that  Comte — 
at  least  where  physical  science  is  concerned — has  come  to  be 
almost  an  ancient ;  and  we  shall  see  that  there  may  easily  be 


va.  viii.]       ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES.  231 

injustice  in  criticizing  him  as  if  he  were  a  contemporary. 
We  shall  find  the  legitimate  ground  for  wonder  to  be,  not 
that  he  did  so  little,  but  that  he  did  so  much.  And  estimating 
him,  as  we  estimate  Bacon,  from  a  purely  historical  point  of 
view,  we  shall  feel  obliged  to  admit  that  the  grand  character- 
istic of  the  modern  movement  in  philosophy — the  continuous 
organization  of  scientific  truths  into  a  coherent  body  of 
doctrine — found  in  Comte  its  earliest,  though  by  no  means 
an  adequate,  exponent.  Previous  to  him,  as  M.  Littre  is 
right  in  reminding  us,  the  field  of  general  speculation 
belonged  to  metaphysics  or  theology,  while  science  dealt  only 
with  specialities.  It  was  owing  to  an  impulse  of  which 
Comte  is  the  earliest  representative,  that  the  tables  were 
turned.  The  field  of  general  speculation  is  now  the  property 
of  science,  while  metaphysics  and  theology  are  presented  as 
particular  transitory  phases  of  human  thought.1  Whatever, 
therefore,  may  be  the  case  with  Mr.  Spencer — whose  entire 
originality  cannot  for  a  moment  be  questioned — it  is  not  true 
of  the  great  body  of  scientific  thinkers,  that  they  stand  in 
essentially  the  same  position  in  which  they  would  have 
stood  had  Comte  never  written.  The  course  of  speculative 
inquiry  daring  the  past  forty  years  would  no  more  have  been 
what  it  is,  without  Comte,  than  the  course  of  speculative 
inquiry  during  the  past  two  centuries  would  have  been 
what  it  is,  without  Bacon.  And,  indeed,  in  Mr.  Spencers 
own  case, — as  he  is  himself  disposed  to  admit, — there  are 
several  instances  In  which  his  very  antagonism  to  Comte  has 
led  him  to  state  certain  important  truths  more  clearly  and 
more  definitely  than  he  would  otherwise  have  been  likely  to 
state  them.  The  theory  of  deanthropomorphization,  set  forth 
in  the  preceding  chapter,  was  presented  in  a  much  more 
vivid  light  than  would  have  been  possible  had  it  not  been 
reached  through  an  adverse  criticism  of  the  Comtean  doctrine 
»f  the  "Three  Stages."  The  condemnation  of  Atheism 
1  Littre,  Awjuste,  Comte,  p.  99.  i 


833  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  l 

involved  in  our  statement  of  that  theory,  is  redoubled  in 
emphasis  when  Positivism  is  by  the  same  reasoning  con- 
demned; and  our  dissent  from  Hume  is  all  the  more  strongly 
accented,  when  it  is  seen  to  be  so  complete  as  to  include 
dissent  from  Comte  also.  So,  too,  the  conclusions  reached 
in  the  present  chapter  concerning  the  organization  of  the 
sciences  are  undeniably  far  more  precise  and  satisfactory 
than  they  would  have  been  if  presented  without  reference 
to  the  earlier  and  necessarily  cruder  views  of  Comte.  Indeed, 
in  the  very  sense  of  incompleteness  which  would  justly  have 
attached  itself  to  our  exposition,  had  no  mention  been  made 
of  the  Comtean  theory,  we  may  find  fresh  illustration  of 
the  fact  that  the  errors  of  great  minds  are  often  no  less 
instructive  than  the  permanent  truths  which  they  have 
succeeded  in  detecting.  And  consequently,  so  far  from 
decrying  the  Positive  Philosophy  or  seeking  to  ignore  it,  we 
shall  much  better  fulfil  our  duty  as  critics  if  we  frankly 
acknowledge  that  the  speculative  progress  of  the  nineteenth 
century  would  have  been  incomplete  without  it.  Holding 
these  views,  and  for  these  reasons,  we  may  freely  admit  the 
justice  of  much  that  Prof.  Huxley  urges  against  Comte; 
that  his  rejection  of  psychology  was  unphilosophical,  and 
his  acceptance  of  phrenology  puerile ;  that  his  acquaintance 
with  science  was  bookish  and  unpractical,  and  that  his 
efforts  to  found  a  social  polity  were  the  very  madness  of 
Utopian  speculation.  Had  he  committed  twice  as  many  such 
blunders,  his  general  conception  of  philosophy  and  his  con- 
tributions to  the  logic  of  science  would  have  remained 
substantially  unaffected  in  value.  Had  Bacon  enrolled  him- 
self among  the  followers  of  Copernicus  instead  of  adhering 
to  the  exploded  theories  of  Ptolemaios,  that  fact  would  not 
by  itself  affect  our  estimate  of  the  value  of  the  "  Novum 
Organon."  And  Comte's  philosophic  position,  as  I  have 
here  sought  to  define  it,  is  no  more  shaken  by  his  numerous 
scientific  blunders  than  Bacon's  position  is  shaken  by  the 


eH.  viii.]       ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES  233 

fact  that  he  repudiated  the  Copernican  astronomy  and  refused 
to  profit  by  the  physical  discoveries  of  Gilbert. 

But  the  allusion  to  the  Logic  of  Science  may  here  serve  to 
remind  us  that,  before  we  can  thoroughly  understand  Comte's 
general  concaption  of  philosophy,  there  is  another  point  of 
view  from  which  his  system  of  the  sciences  must  be 
criticized;  a  point  of  view  too  little  dwelt  upon  by  Mr. 
Spencer,  since  by  the  due  consideration  of  it  we  shall  arrive 
at  the  deepest  of  the  differences  between  the  Comtean 
organization  of  the  sciences  and  the  Spencerian  organization 
widoh  is  here  adopted.  In  order  fairly  to  bring  out  this 
point,  let  us  devote  a  chapter  to  considering  the  masterly 
enumeration  of  scientific  methods,  and  the  survey  of  the 
resources  which  the  mind  has  at  its  disposal  for  the  in- 
vestigation of  phenomena,  which  Comte  has  made  a  part  of 
his  general  philosophy  of  the  sciences;  withholding,  until 
the  sequel,  the  application  which  is  to  be  made  of  the 
discussion. 


CHAPTER  IX 

PHILOSOPHY  AS  AN  OEGANON. 

The  absence  of  Logic,  as  a  distinct  science,  from  the  Comtean 
classification,  has  by  most  critics  been  rightly  regarded  as  a 
serious  defect.  Nevertheless,  before  we  can  intelligently  find 
fault  with  Comte,  we  must  make  sure  that  we  understand 
his  grounds  for  assigning  to  Logic  no  independent  position. 
The  explanation  is  more  deeply  implicated  with  his  funda- 
mental conception  of  the  Scope  of  Philosophy  than  has 
generally  been  suspected.  But  let  us  begin  by  considering 
the  more  obvious  aspects  of  the  case. 

The  science  of  logic  consists  of  two  portions, — the  doctrine 
of  the  syllogism,  and  the  general  theory  of  induction,  the 
latter  comprising  a  codification  on  the  one  hand  of  the 
methods  of  research,  and  on  the  other  hand  of  the  laws  of 
evidence.  But  this  twofold  province  of  logic  can  hardly  be 
said  to  have  been  clearly  indicated  until  the  publication  of 
Mr.  Mill's  treatise.  Prom  the  days  of  Aristotle  down  to  the 
time  when  Comte  wrote  the  "  Philosophic  Positive,"  the  logic 
officially  recognized  and  taught  as  such  consisted  almost 
exclusively  of  the  doctrine  of  the  syllogism.  Besides  this 
there  was  nothing  save  the  Baconian  logic,  containing  indeed 
many  valuable  hints  for  inquirers,  but  not  organized  into  a 
coherent   system.     Now  Comte  held  in   small  esteem  the 


ch.  ix.]  PHILOSOPHY  AS  AN  OBGANON.  235 

syllogistic  logic.  He  held,  and  justly,  that  something  besides 
the  scholastic  quibbling  over  Baroco,  Camestres  and  Barbara, 
was  needed  in  prosecuting  the  search  after  new  truths.  To 
attempt,  by  prolonged  dealing  in  these  dialectic  subtleties,  to 
acquire  the  art  of  correct  reasoning,  was,  in  his  opinion, 
much  like  trying  to  learn  the  art  of  correct  speaking  by  pro- 
longed study  of  the  rules  of  grammar.  Men  do  not  learn  to 
swim,  to  fence,  or  to  hunt,  by  reading  elaborate  treatises  on 
gymnastics  and  sportsmanship.  The  study  of  rhetoric,  how- 
ever thorough,  careful  and  systematic,  will  never  of  itself 
enable  us  to  write  a  clear  and  forcible  style.  We  may  know 
all  the  commandments  of  ethics  by  heart,  and  be  able  to 
utter  the  soundest  judgment  upon  the  comparative  merits  of 
the  utilitarian  and  the  intuitional  theories,  and  yet  be  unable 
to  lead  upright  lives.  And  similarly  we  may  go  on  stringing 
together  majors  and  minors  until  we  are  grey,  and  yet  after 
all  be  unable  to  make  an  accurate  observation,  or  perform  a 
legitimate  induction.  Therefore,  according  to  Comte,  logic  is 
not  so  much  a  science  as  an  art,  indispensable  in  the  prose- 
cution of  all  the  sciences,  but  to  be  learned  only  by  practice. 
As  philosophy,  regarded  as  a  general  conception  of  the 
universe,  has  hitherto,  like  the  mistletoe,  had  its  roots  in  the 
air,  but  has  now  been  brought  down  and  securely  planted  in 
the  fertile  soil  of  scientific  knowledge,  so  let  us  no  longer 
permit  logic  to  remain  in  isolation,  feeding  upon  airy  nothings, 
but  let  us  bring  it  down  and  nourish  it  with  scientific 
methods.  As  we  learn  to  live  rightly,  not  by  dogmatic  in- 
struction, but  by  the  assiduous  practice  of  right  living,  as  we 
learn  to  speak  properly  and  to  write  forcibly  by  practice  and 
not  by  theory,  so  let  us  gain  control  of  the  various  instru- 
ments for  investigating  Nature  by  the  study  of  the  several 
sciences  in  which  those  instruments  come  into  play.  To 
become  skilful  in  the  use  of  deduction,  let  us  study  mathe- 
matics, especially  in  its  direct  applications  to  the  solution  of 
problems  in  astronomy  and  physics.     If  we  would  become 


S36  COSMIC  rillLOSOPEY.  [it.  l 

accurate  observers,  and  would  enable  ourselves  properly  to 
estimate  the  value  of  experimental  reasoning,  let  us  study 
those  inductive  sciences  which  exhibit  practically  the 
essential  requisites  of  an  accurate  observation  or  a  conclu- 
sive experiment.  Even  so,  if  we  would  attain  literary  ex- 
cellence, let  us  not  fritter  away  our  time  in  puerile  attempts 
to  imitate  the  favourite  modes  of  expression  of  admired 
writers,  but  let  us  rather  aim  at  directly  expressing  the 
thoughts  that  are  in  us,  the  result  of  our  own  observation 
and  reflection,  admitting  no  phrase  which  does  not  assist  the 
exposition  of  the  thought.  If,  as  Buffon  said,  the  style  is 
the  man,  so  also  is  the  habit  of  thinking  the  man,  save  that 
in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other,  if  it  possess  any  merit,  it  is 
the  man  as  modified  and  cultivated  by  a  complex  intercourse 
with  phenomena. 

Such  is  Comte's  opinion  of  logic, — an  opinion  common 
enough  at  the  present  day,  but  sufficiently  novel  to  be 
revolutionary  forty  years  ago.  That  the  above  views  are  in 
the  main  perfectly  sound  will  now  be  questioned  by  no  one, 
nor  can  it  be  doubted  that  they  are  of  the  highest  importance. 
When  put  into  practical  operation,  they  are  destined  to  work 
changes  of  fundamental  importance  in  our  methods  of  educa- 
tion. Nevertheless,  though  sound  enough  as  far  as  they  go, 
these  arguments  are  far  from  exhibiting  the  whole  truth. 
Admitting  unreservedly  that,  to  become  proficient  in  obser- 
vation and  reasoning,  we  must  learn  logic,  as  we  learn 
grammar  and  rhetoric,  by  practical  experience  ;  it  must  still 
be  maintained  that  there  is  need  of  a  general  doctrine  of 
logic,  as  indeed  there  is  also  need  of  a  general  doctrine  of 
grammar  and  rhetoric.  Though  a  man  may  write  an  excel- 
lent style  without  having  studied  rhetoric  systematically, 
yet  it  will  be  no  injury,  but  rather  an  important  help  to  him 
to  understand  theoretically  the  general  principles  on  which 
a  sentence  should  be  constructed.  In  the  fine  arts,  which 
afford  an  excellent  test  for  judging  this  point,  the  superiority 


ch.  ix.]  PHILOSOPHY  AS  AN  ORGANON.  237 

imparted  by  systematic  instruction  is  quite  incontestable. 
Doubtless  it  is  by  long-continued  practice  that  men  learn  to 
paint  pictures,  to  mould  statues,  and  to  compose  oratorios  or 
symphonies.  But  it  is  none  the  less  probable  that  Mozart 
and  Beethoven  would  have  accomplished  comparatively  little 
without  the  profound  study  of  harmony;  and  in  painting 
and  sculpture  the  "  originality  of  untaught  geniuses  "  is,  not 
unjustly,  made  a  subject  for  sarcasm.  It  is  therefore  useless 
for  Macaulay  to  remind  us  that  men  reasoned  correctly  long 
before  Bacon  had  drawn  up  his  elaborate  canons  of  induc- 
tion ;  or  for  Comte  to  appeal  to  rhetoric,  grammar,  and 
aesthetic  art  in  support  of  the  opinion  that  we  need  no 
general  doctrine  of  logic. 

To  take  a  concrete  example, — if,  as  in  Borda's  experiment, 
you  make  a  simple  pendulum  oscillate  thirty  hours  in  an 
exhausted  receiver,  by  diminishing  the  friction  at  the  point 
of  support,  and  proceed  to  infer  that  with  the  total  abolition 
of  friction  and  atmospheric  resistance  the  pendulum  would 
oscillate  for  ever,  it  may  not  be  essential  to  the  validity  of 
your  inference  that  you  should  understand  the  character  of 
the  particular  logical  method  which  you  are  employing. 
Nevertheless  it  cannot  but  be  of  advantage  to  you  to  know 
that  you  are  using  the  "  method  of  concomitant  variations," 
and  to  understand  on  general  principles  the  conditions  under 
which  this  method  may  be  employed  and  the  precautions 
required  in  order  to  make  it  valid.  For  want  of  such  general 
knowledge  of  method,  even  trained  physicists  not  unfre- 
quently  make  grave  errors  of  inference,  applying  some 
powerful  implement  of  research  in  cases  where  interfering 
circumstances,  not  sufficiently  taken  into  account,  render  it 
powerless.  Thus  the  method  just  alluded  to,  of  varying  the 
cause  in  order  to  observe  and  note  the  concomitant  variations 
of  the  effect,  is  a  very  powerful  instrument  of  induction ; 
but  in  order  to  use  it  effectively,  we  need  to  bear  in  mind 
two  things.    First,  we  need  to  know  the  quantitative  relation 


238  COSMIC  PJlILOSOrUY.  [pt-  *• 

between  the  variation  of  the  cause  and  that  of  the  effect; 
and  secondly,  we  need  to  know  that  the  intermixture  of 
circumstances  will  not,  after  a  certain  point,  alter  the  order  of 
the  variations.  In  the  case  of  the  pendulum,  just  cited,  we 
know  both  of  these  points.  We  know  that  the  only  factors 
in  the  case  are  the  momentum  of  the  pendulum,  acting  in 
concert  with  gravity,  the  friction  at  the  point  of  support,  and 
the  friction  and  resistance  of  the  atmosphere  ;  and  as  we 
progressively  diminish  these  latter  retarding  factors,  we  can 
calculate  the  exact  ratio  at  which  the  retardation  diminishes. 
We  are  therefore  perfectly  justified  in  concluding  that  if 
the  friction  and  resistance  could  be  utterly  abolished,  the 
momentum  of  the  pendulum,  acting  in  concert  with  gravity, 
would  carry  it  backward  and  forward  for  ever.  But  because 
the  abstraction  of  heat  causes  the  molecules  of  a  body  to 
approach  each  other,  it  is  not  safe  to  infer  that,  if  all  the 
heat  were  abstracted,  the  molecules  would  be  in  complete 
contact.  This  is  a  more  or  less  plausible  guess,  not  a  true 
induction.  "For  since  we  neither  know  how  much  heat 
there  is  in  any  body,  nor  what  is  the  real  distance  between 
any  two  of  its  particles,  we  cannot  judge  whether  the  con- 
traction of  the  distance  does  or  does  not  follow  the  diminu- 
tion of  the  quantity  of  heat  according  to  such  a  numerical 
relation  that  the  two  quantities  would  vanish  simulta- 
neously." x  In  similar  wise,  from  the  fact  that  in  alcoholic 
intoxication  the  severity  of  the  narcotic  symptoms  varies 
according  to  the  size  of  the  dose,  it  is  not  legitimate  to  infer 
that  a  very  small  dose  will  cause  slight  narcotic  symptoms 
or  even  a  tendency  to  the  production  of  such  symptoms. 
For  we  can  neither  ascertain  the  quantitative  ratio  between 
the  variation  in  the  dose  and  the  variation  in  the  narcosis, 
nor  in  the  case  of  such  a  complex  aggregate  as  the  human 
organism  can  we  assert  the  absence  of  interfering  conditions 
which,  after  a  certain  point,  will  entirely  change  the  order  oi 
1  Mill,  System  of  Logic,  6th  edition,  vol.  i.  p.  447. 


ch.  ix.]  PHILOSOPHY  AS  AN  ORGANON.  239 

the  two  variations.  In  point  of  fact  there  are  such  interfer- 
ing conditions,  due  partly  to  the  control  exercised  by  the 
sympathetic  nerve  over  the  contraction  anc1  dilatation  of  the 
cerebral  blood-vessels,  and  partly  to  other  circumstances  too 
complicated  to  be  here  mentioned. 

Now  it  is  the  business  of  logic  to  codify,  upon  abstract 
principles,  the  rules  of  scientific  investigation ;  to  determine 
what  shall  be  admitted  as  trustworthy  evidence,  and  what 
shall  not  be  so  admitted ;  to  point  out  the  class  of  problems 
which  each  implement  of  research  is  best  fitted  to  solve ; 
and  to  enumerate  the  precautions  which  must  be  taken  in 
order  to  use  each  implement  with  skill  and  success.  Logic 
is  therefore  a  science  which  contributes  to  all  the  others,  and 
to  which  all  the  others  contribute.  Though  we  may,  and 
indeed  must,  acquire  familiarity  with  its  methods  by  direct 
practice  in  the  study  of  the  various  sciences,  yet  the 
advantage  of  understanding  the  general  theory  of  those 
methods,  as  a  science  by  itself,  cannot  well  be  questioned 
after  the  foregoing  explanation.  To  become  familiar  with  the 
values  of  different  kinds  of  evidence,  and  with  the  processes 
by  which  evidence  is  procured,  a  lawyer  must  practise  in 
court ;  yet  every  lawyer  thinks  it  necessary  to  master  the 
general  theory  of  evidence  as  presented  in  special  treatises. 
Logic  is  to  the  philosopher  and  the  scientific  inquirer  what 
the  law  of  evidence  is  to  the  lawyer  ;  and  the  need  for  its 
theoretical  study  rests  upon  the  admitted  principle  that,  in  all 
branches  of  human  activity,  rational  knowledge  is  better  than 
empirical  knowledge.  In  order  to  be  always  sure  that  we  are 
generalizing  correctly,  we  must  make  the  generalizing  process 
itself  a  subject  of  generalization. 

But  although  Comte  did  not  dignify  logic  with  the  rank  of 
an  independent  science,  he  more  than  atoned  for  the  omission 
by  his  contributions  to  the  study  of  logic.  Since  the  era  of 
Bacon  and  Descartes,  no  book  had  appeared  containing  such 
profound  views  of   scientific   method  as  the  "  Philosophie 


240  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  l 

Positive."  It  has  since  been  surpassed  and  superseded  in 
many  respects  by  Mr.  Mill's  "System  of  Logic;"  but  Mr.  Mill 
would  be  the  first  to  admit  that,  but  for  the  work  of  Comte, 
his  own  work  would  have  been  by  no  means  what  it  is. l 

Comte's  most  important  innovation  consisted  in  com- 
prehensively assigning  to  each  class  of  phenomena  its 
appropriate  method  of  investigation,  and  in  clearly  marking 
out  the  limits  within  which  each  method  is  applicable.  It  is 
this  which  gives  to  the  first  three  volumes  of  the"  Philosophie 
Positive "  the  character  of  a  general  treatise  on  scientific 
method,  and  which  makes  them  still  interesting  and  profitable 
reading,  even  in  those  chapters  on  physics,  chemistry  and 
biology,  which  in  nearly  all  other  respects  the  recent  revolu- 
tions in  science  have  rendered  thoroughly  antiquated.  Comte 
intended  this  portion  of  his  work  especially  for  a  new 
Organon  of  scientific  research,  which  should  influence 
educational  methods  in  the  future,  as  well  as  assist  in 
determining  the  general  conception  of  the  universe.  Pie 
calls  attention  to  the  futility  of  approaching  the  most  com- 
plicated phenomena,  such  as  those  of  life,  individual  or 
social,  without  having  previously,  by  the  study  of  the  simpler 
sciences,  learned  what  a  law  of  nature  is,  what  a  scientific 
conception  is,  what  is  involved  in  making  an  accurate  observa- 
tion, what  is  requisite  to  a  sound  generalization,  what  are 
the  various  means  of  verifying  conclusions  obtained  by 
deduction.  Continually  we  witness  the  spectacle  of  scientific 
specialists,  justly  eminent  in  their  own  department  of  research, 
who  do  not  scruple  to  utter  the  most  childish  nonsense  upon 
topics  with  which  they  are  but  slightly  acquainted.  The 
reason  is  that  they  have  learned  to  think  correctly  after  some 
particular  fashion,  but  know  too  little  of  the  general  principles 
on  which  thinking  should  be  conducted.  In  such  a  con- 
dition— owing  to  the  discredit  which  the  manifest  failure  of 
metaphysics  has  for  the  time  being  cast  upon  philosophy  in 

1    This  is  perhaps  too  strongly  stated.     See  Mill's  Autobiography,   pp. 
207-213,  245. 


ch.  ix.]  PHILOSOPHY  AS  AN  ORG  ANON.  241 

general — are  too  many  of  our  scientific  savants  of  the  present 
century ;  whose  narrowness  of  mind,  in  dealing  with 
philosophic  questions,  Comte  was  never  weary  of  pointing 
out  and  tracing  to  its  true  source  in  the  defective  mastery  of 
logical  methods.  The  cure  for  this  narrowness  is  to  be  found 
in  a  philosophic  education  which  shall  ensure  familiarity  with 
all  logical  methods  by  studying  each  in  connection  with  that 
order  of  phenomena  with  which  it  is  most  especially  fitted 
to  deal. 

According  to  Comte,  the  resources  which  the  mind  has  at 
its  disposal  for  the  inductive  investigation  of  phenomena  are 
three  in  number, — namely,  Observation,  Experiment,  and 
Comparison.  Strictly  speaking,  experiment  and  comparison 
are  only  more  elaborate  modes  of  observation ;  but  they  are 
nevertheless  sufficiently  distinct  from  simple  observation  to 
make  it  desirable,  for  practical  purposes,  to  rank  them  as 
separate  processes.  Concisely  stated,  the  difference  is  as 
follows.  In  simple  observation,  we  merely  collate  the 
phenomena,  as  they  are  presented  to  us.  In  experiment,  we 
follow  the  Baconian  rule  of  artificially  varying  the  circum- 
stances. In  comparison,  we  watch  the  circumstances  as  they 
are  varied  for  us  on  a  great  scale  by  Nature. 

Answering  to  the  two  processes  of  observation  and  ex- 
periment, as  Mr.  Mill  has  shown,  there  are  two  inductive 
methods, — the  Method  of  Agreement  and  the  Method  of 
Difference.  The  former  compares  different  instances  of  a 
phenomenon,  to  ascertain  in  what  respects  they  agree,  while 
the  latter  compares  an  instance  of  the  occurrence  of  a 
phenomenon  with  an  instance  of  its  non-occurrence,  to 
ascertain  in  what  respects  they  differ.  To  cite  from  Mr. 
Mill's  "  System  of  Logic  "  a  pair  of  examples  : — "  When  a 
man  is  shot  through  the  heart,  it  is  by  the  method  of  differ- 
ence we  know  that  it  was  the  gun-shot  which  killed  him ;  for 
he  was  in  the  fulness  of  life  immediately  before,  all  circum- 
stances being  the  same  except  the  wound."     On  the  other 

VOL.  I.  R 


242  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

hand,  in  inquiring  into  the  cause  of  crystallizatkn,  we 
employ  the  method  of  agreement  as  follows.  "We  compare 
instances  in  which  bodies  are  known  to  assume  crystalline 
structure,  but  which  have  no  other  point  of  agreement;  and 
we  find  them  to  have  one,  and  as  far  as  we  can  observe, 
only  one,  antecedent  in  common, — the  deposition  of  a  solid 
matter  from  a  liquid  state,  either  a  state  of  fusion  or  of 
solution.  We  conclude,  therefore,  that  the  solidification  of  a 
substance  from  a  liquid  state  is  an  invariable  antecedent  of 
its  crystallization."  In  this  particular  case  we  may  say  that 
it  is  not  only  the  invariable  antecedent,  but  the  unconditional 
invariable  antecedent,  or  cause ;  since,  having  detected  the 
antecedent,  we  may  produce  it  artificially,  and  find  that  the 
effect  follows  it.  It  was  thus  in  Sir  James  Hall's  splendid 
experiment,  in  which  "  he  produced  artificial  marble  by  the 
cooling  of  its  materials  from  fusion  under  immense  pressure." 
And  it  was  thus  when  Dr.  Wollaston,  "  by  keeping  a  vial  of 
water  charged  with  siliceous  particles  undisturbed  for  years, 
succeeded  in  obtaining  crystals  of  quartz." 

Manifestly,  however,  unless  we  can  artificially  produce  the"' 
antecedent,  and  so  reason  back  from  cause  to  effect,  our 
method  of  agreement  is  not  exhaustively  conclusive.  Unless 
we  can  be  sure  that  the  observed  antecedent  is  the  only  one 
common  to  all  the  instances,  the  sequence  may  turn  out  to 
be  only  a  derivative  sequence,  like  that  of  day  and  night. 
A.nd  unless  the  phenomena  are  very  simple,  we  cannot  be 
sure  that  the  observed  common  antecedent  is  the  only  one. 
It  is  otherwise  with  the  method  of  difference.  Whenever  we 
can  bring  that  method  to  bear  upon  the  phenomena,  its  results 
are  finally  conclusive  ;  since  it  is  the  very  essence  of  that 
method  to  compare  two  instances  which  are  exactly  alike  in 
every  respect  save  in  the  presence  or  absence  of  the  given 
antecedent.  Unfortunately,  in  the  operations  of  nature  these 
requisites  are  seldom  fulfilled.  So  that  the  method  of 
difference  "  is  more  particularly  a  method  of  artificial  experi- 


en.  ix. j  PHILOSOPHY  AS  AN  ORGANON.  243 

merit ;  while  that  of  agreement  is  more  especially  the  resource 
employed  where  experimentation  is  impossible." 

Now  in  astronomy  we  can  employ  only  simple  observation. 
The  magnitude  and  the  inaccessibility  of  the  phenomena 
render  it  impossible  for  us  to  vary  the  circumstances,  so  that 
experiment  is  out  of  the  question.  Nevertheless,  here  the 
phenomena  are  so  simple  that  the  method  of  agreement  alone 
carries  us  far  toward  certainty  ;  and  accordingly  in  astronomy 
the  art  of  observation  has  been  brought  to  such  a  pitch  of 
perfection,  and  the  conditions  of  an  accurate  observation  are 
so  thoroughly  understood,  that  it  is  here  that  the  use  of  this 
implement  of  induction  must  be  studied. 

In  physics,  both  molar  and  molecular,  and  in  chemistry, 
the  phenomena  become  far  more  complicated.  Yet  here  we 
become  able  to  vary  the  phenomena  almost  indefinitely ;  and 
accordingly  physics  and  chemistry  are  the  inductive  sciences 
par  excellence,  in  which  experiment,  the  great  engine  of  in- 
duction, is  employed  most  successfully,  and  in  which,  there- 
fore, is  especially  to  be  studied  the  proper  use  of  the  method 
of  difference. 

When  we  come  to  biology,  we  are  met  by  a  still  greater 
amplication  of  phenomena ;  but  according  to  the  luminous 
principle,  first  suggested  by  Comte,  that  in  general  our  means 
of  investigation  increase  with  the  complexity  of  the  pheno- 
mena, we  have  here  an  additional  weapon  of  investigation. 
We  still  retain  the  ability  to  experiment ;  although  such  is 
the  intricacy  of  the  circumstances,  and  such  the  subtlety  of 
the  causes  in  operation,  that  we  can  seldom  apply  the  potent 
method  of  difference.  We  can  seldom  be  sure  that  the  two 
instances  compared  agree  in  everything  save  in  the  presence 
or  absence  of  the  circumstance  we  are  studying.1  In  expe- 
rimenting upon  live  animals,  we  are  liable  to  cause  a  patho- 

1  A  striking  illustration  of  this  truth  is  furnished  by  the  controversy  now 
going  on  concerning  archebiosis  or  "spontaneous  generation."  See  below, 
part  ii.  chap.  viii. 

B   2 


244  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  ft.  i. 

logical  state,  and  set  in  motion  a  whole  series  of  phenomena 
which  obscure  those  which  we  wish  to  observe.  It  is  instruc- 
tive, and  often  amusing,  to  read  some  treatise  on  experimental 
physiology,  like  those  of  Magendie  and  Claude  Bernard,  and 
see  how  easy  it  is  for  equally  careful  investigators  to  arrive 
at  totally  irreconcilable  results.  It  is  not  to  be  denied  that 
experiment  is  of  vast  importance  in  biology,  and  has  already 
achieved  wonders.  Nevertheless,  the  practical  study  of 
experimentation  should  never  be  begun  in  biology,  but  in 
chemistry  or  physics,  where  the  conditions  are  simpler. 
Having  learned  from  these  sciences  the  general  theory  of 
sound  experimenting,  we  may  afterward  safely  proceed  to 
apply  the  same  method  to  vital  phenomena. 

The  additional  implement  possessed  by  the  organic  sciences 
is  comparison,  to  which  corresponds  the  Method  of  Concomi- 
tant Variations,  already  described.  It  is  true  we  can  also 
employ  this  method  to  a  large  extent  in  the  simpler  sciences, 
but  it  is  in  biology  that  it  attains  its  maximum  efficiency. 
Here  we  have  a  series  of  instances  already  prepared  for  us 
by  Nature,  in  which  certain  antecedents  and  consequents 
vary  together.  We  have  a  vast  hierarchy  of  organisms,  each 
exhibiting  some  organ  and  the  corresponding  function  more  or 
less  developed  than  it  is  in  the  others.  To  trace  the  functions 
of  the  nervous  system,  or  to  follow  the  process  of  digestion, 
in  its  increasing  complication,  from  the  star-fish  up  to  man, 
is  to  employ  the  logical  method  of  comparison.  And  if  any 
one  wishes  to  realize  the  immense  power  of  this  method,  let 
him  reflect  upon  the  revolution  which  was  wrought  in  the 
science  of  biology  when  Lamarck  and  Cuvier  began  the  work 
of  comparison  upon  a  large  scale. 

Hence,  it  is  that  biology  is  eminently  the  science  of  classi- 
fication ;  and  if  skill  in  the  use  of  this  powerful  auxiliary  of 
thought  is  to  be  acquired,  it  must  be  sought  in  the  compara- 
tive study  of  the  vegetable  and  animal  kingdoms.  Theoretical 
lo^ic  may  divide  and  subdivide  as  much  as  it  likes  ;   but 


ch.  «.]  PHILOSOPHY  AS  AN  ORGANON.  245 

genera  and  species  are  dull  and  lifeless  things,  when  contem- 
plated merely  in  their  places  upon  a  logical  chart.  To  become 
correct  reasoners,  it  is  not  enough  that  we  should  know  what 
classes  and  sub-classes  are  ;  we  should  also  be  able  skilfully 
to  make  them.  I  conclude  with  a  citation  from  Mr.  Mill : — 
"Although  the  scientific  arrangements  of  organic  nature 
afford  as  yet  the  only  complete  example  of  the  true  principles 
of  rational  classification,  whether  as  to  the  formation  of 
groups  or  of  series,  those  principles  are  applicable  to  all  cases 
in  which  mankind  are  called  upon  to  bring  the  various  parts 
of  any  extensive  subject  into  mental  coordination.  They  are 
as  much  to  the  point  when  objects  are  to  be  classed  for 
purposes  of  art  or  business,  as  for  those  of  science.  The 
proper  arrangement,  for  example,  of  a  code  of  laws  depends 
on  the  same  scientific  conditions  as  the  classifications  in 
natural  history ;  nor  could  there  be  a  better  preparatory 
discipline  for  that  important  function,  than  the  study  of  the 
principles  of  a  natural  arrangement,  not  only  in  the  abstract, 
but  in  their  actual  application  to  the  class  of  phenomena  for 
which  they  were  first  elaborated,  and  which  are  still  the  best 
school  for  learning  their  use.  Of  this,  the  great  authority  on 
codification,  Bentham,  was  perfectly  aware ;  and  his  early 
1  Fragment  on  Government,'  the  admirable  introduction  to  a 
series  of  writings  unequalled  in  their  department,  contains 
clear  and  just  views  (as  far  as  they  go)  on  the  meaning  of  a 
natural  arrangement,  such  as  could  scarcely  have  occurred  to 
anyone  who  lived  anterior  to  the  age  of  Linnseus  and  Bernard 
de  Jussieu." 1 

These  illustrations  will  serve  to  give  the  reader  some  idea 
of  Comte's  brilliant  and  happy  contributions  to  the  logic  of 
scientific  inquiry.  I  am  aware  that  scanty  justice  is  done  to 
the  subject  by  the  condensed  and  abridged  mode  of  treat- 
ment 1,0  which  I  have  felt  obliged  to  resort.  But  an  exhaus- 
tive exposition  and  criticism  of  the  details  of  the  Comtean 
1  System,  of  Logic,  6th  edit.,  vol.  ii.  p.  288. 


246  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  I. 

philosophy  of  method  does  not  come  witbin  the  scope  of  the 
present  work.  The  object  of  the  preceding  sketch  is  to 
enable  the  reader  to  realize  the  significance  of  Comte's  omis- 
sion of  Logic  from  the  scheme  of  the  sciences.  That  omis- 
sion, as  we  may  now  see,  was  due  to  the  fact  that  Comte 
merged  Philosophy  in  Logic.  Or,  in  other  words,  from  his 
point  of  view,  Philosophy  is  not  a  Synthesis,  but  an  Organon. 
Nowhere  in  that  portion  of  the  "  Philosophie  Positive  "  which 
treats  of  the  organization  of  the  sciences,  do  we  catch  any 
glimpse  of  that  Cosmic  conception  of  the  scope  of  philosophy 
which  was  set  forth  and  illustrated  in  the  second  chapter  of 
these  Prolegomena.  For  according  to  that  conception,  we 
have  seen  that  philosophy  is  an  all-comprehensive  Synthesis 
of  the  doctrines  and  methods  of  science  ;  a  coherent  body 
of  theorems  concerning  the  Cosmos,  and  concerning  Man  in 
his  relations  to  the  Cosmos  of  which  he  is  part.  Now, 
though  Comte  enriched  mankind  with  a  new  conception  of 
the  aim,  the  methods,  and  the  spirit  of  philosophy,  he  never 
even  attempted  to  construct  any  such  coherent  body  of 
theorems.  He  constructed  a  classification  of  the  sciences 
and  a  general  theory  of  scientific  methods ;  but  he  did  not 
extract  from  each  science  that  quota  of  general  doctrines 
which  it  might  be  made  to  contribute  toward  a  universal 
doctrine,  and  then  proceed  to  fuse  these  general  doctrines 
into  such  a  universal  doctrine.  From  first  to  last,  so  far  as 
the  integration  of  science  is  concerned,  his  work  was  logical 
rather  than  philosophical.  And  here  we  shall  do  well  to 
note  an  apparent  confusion  between  these  two  points  of  view, 
which  occurs  in  Mr.  Mill's  essay  on  Comte.  "  The  philosophy 
of  science,"  says  Mr.  Mill,  "  consists  of  two  principal  parts ; 
the  methods  of  investigation,  and  the  requisites  of  proof. 
The  one  points  out  the  roads  by  which  the  human  intellect 
arrives  at  conclusions ;  the  other,  the  mode  of  testing  their 
evidence.  The  former,  if  complete,  would  be  an  Organon 
of  Discovery;  the  latter,   of  Proof."     Now  I   call  this   an 


ch.  ix.]  PHILOSOPHY  AS  AN  OEGANON  247 

admirable  definition  ;  bnt  it  is  not  the  definition  of  Philo- 
sophy, it  is  the  definition  of  Logic.  If  we  were  to  accept  it 
as  a  definition  of  philosophy,  we  might  admit  that  Comte  con- 
structed a  philosophy ;  as  it  is,  we  can  only  admit  that  he 
constructed  a  logic,  or  general  theory  of  methods.  In  the 
present  chapter  we  have  seen  how  valuable  were  his  contri- 
butions to  the  logic  of  induction.  We  may  admit,  with  Mr. 
Mill,  that  he  treats  this  subject  "  with  a  degree  of  perfection 
hitherto  unrivalled," — save  (I  should  say)  by  Mr.  Mill  him- 
self. But  an  Organon  of  Methods  is  one  thing,  and  a  Syn- 
thesis of  Doctrines  is  another  thing ;  and  a  system  of 
philosophy  which  is  to  be  regarded  as  a  comprehensive 
theory  of  the  universe  must  include  both.  Yet  Comte  never 
attempted  any  other  synthesis  than  that  wretched  travesty 
which,  with  reference  to  the  method  employed  in  it,  is  aptly 
entitled  "  Synthase  Subjective." 

Not  only  does  Comte  thus  practically  ignore  the  conception 
of  philosophy  as  a  Synthesis  of  the  most  general  truths  of 
science  into  a  body  of  universal  truths  relating  to  the 
Cosmos  as  a  whole,  but  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  had 
such  a  conception  been  distinctly  brought  before  his  mind, 
he  would  have  explicitly  condemned  it  as  chimerical.  In 
illustration  of  this  I  shall,  at  the  risk  of  apparent  digression, 
cite  one  of  his  conspicuous  shortcomings  which  is  peculiarly 
interesting,  not  only  as  throwing  light  upon  his  intellectual 
habits,  but  also  as  exemplifying  the  radical  erroneousness  of 
his  views  concerning  the  limits  of  philosophic  inquiry.  Prof. 
Huxley  calls  attention  to  Comte's  scornful  repudiation  of 
what  is  known  as  the  "  cell-doctrine  "  in  anatomy  and  phy- 
siology. Comte  characterized  this  doctrine  as  a  melancholy 
instance  of  the  abuse  of  microscopic  investigation,  a  chimeri- 
cal attempt  to  refer  all  tissues  to  a  single  primordial  tissue, 
"  formed  by  the  unintelligible  assemblage  of  a  sort  of  organic 
monads,  which  are  supposed  to  be  the  ultimate  units  of  every 
living  body."     Now  this  "  chimerical   doctrine "  is  at  the 


248  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ra.  h 

present  day  one  of  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  biology. 
Other  instances  are  at  hand,  which  Prof.  Huxley  has  not 
cited.  For  example,  Comte  condemned  as  vain  and  useless 
all  inquiries  into  the  origin  of  the  human  race,  although,  with 
an  inconsistency  not  unusual  with  him,  he  was  a  warm 
advocate  of  that  nebular  hypothesis  which  seeks  to  account 
for  the  origin  of  the  solar  system.  As  these  two  orders  of 
inquiry  are  philosophically  precisely  on  a  level  with  each 
other,  the  former  being  indeed  the  one  for  which  we  have  now 
the  more  abundant  material,  the  attempted  distinction  is  proof 
of  the  vagueness  with  which  Comte  conceived  the  limits  of 
philosophic  inquiry.1  But  what  shall  we  say  when  we  find 
him  asserting  the  impossibility  of  a  science  of  stellar  astro- 
nomy ?  He  tells  us  that  we  have  not  even  the  first  datum 
for  such  a  science,  and  in  all  probability  shall  never  obtain 
that  datum.    Until  we  have  ascertained  the  distance,  and  cal- 

1  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  disciples  of  Comte  are  still  to  be  found,  so 
incapable  of  realizing  that  the  arbitrary  dicta  of  their  master  did  not  consti- 
tute the  final  utterance  of  human  science,  that  they  oppose  the  Doctrine  of 
Evolution  upon  no  other  ground  than  the  assumed  incapacity  of  the  human 
mind  for  dealing  with  origins  !  In  a  discussion  held  in  New  York  some  two 
years  since  on  the  subject  of  "  Darwinism,"  a  certain  disciple  of  Comte 
observed  that  it  was  useless  for  man  to  pretend  to  know  how  he  originated, 
when  he  could  not  ascertain  the  origin  of  anything  !  Nevertheless,  since  we 
do  find  ourselves  able  to  point  out  the  origin  of  many  things,  from  a  myth 
or  a  social  observance  to  a  freshet  or  the  fall  of  an  avalanche,  it  appears 
that  our  Comtist  was  playing  upon  words  after  the  scholastic  or  Platonic 
fashion,  and  confounding  proximate  "origin,"  which  is  a  subject  for  science, 
with  ultimate  "origin,"  which  must  be  relegated  to  metaphysics.  Had 
Comte  carried  out  this  principle  consistently,  he  would  never  have  written 
his  Philosophy  of  History,  since  the  explanation  of  the  social  phenomena 
existing  in  any  age  is  the  determination  of  their  mode  of  origin  from  the 
social  phenomena  of  the  preceding  age.  But  if  with  the  aid  of  historic 
data  we  may  go  back  three  thousand  years,  there  is  no  reason  why,  with  the 
aid  of  geologic,  astronomic,  and  chemical  data,  we  should  not  go  back,  if 
necessary,  a  thousand  billion  years,  and  investigate  the  origin  of  the  earth 
from  the  solar  nebula,  or  the  origin  of  life  from  aggregations  of  colloidal 
matter.  In  either  case,  the  problem  is  one,  not  of  ultimate  origin,  but  of 
evolution.  In  neither  case  do  we  seek  to  account  for  the  origin  of  the  matter 
and  motion  which  constitute  the  phenomenal  universe,  but  only  to  discover 
a  formula  -which  shall  express  the  common  characteristics  of  certain  observed 
orinfelred  redistributions  of  the  matter  and  motion  already  existing.  The 
latter  attempt  is  as  clearly  within  the  limits  of  a  scientific  philosophy  as  the 
former  is  clearly  beyond  them. 


ch.  ix.]  PHILOSOPHY  AS  AN  OEGANON.  249 

eulated  the  proper  motion,  of  at  least  one  or  two  fixed  stars, 
we  cannot  be  certain  even  that  the  law  of  gravitation  holds 
in  these  distant  regions.  And  the  distance  of  a  star  we  shall 
probably  never  be  able  even  approximately  to  estimate.  Thus 
wrote  Comte  in  1835.  But  events,  with  almost  malicious 
rapidity,  falsified  his  words.  In  less  than  four  years,  Bessel 
had  measured  the  parallax  of  the  star  61  Cygni, — the 
first  of  a  brilliant  series  of  discoveries  which  by  this  time 
have  made  the  starry  heavens  comparatively  familiar  ground 
to  us.  What  would  Comte's  scorn  have  been,  had  it  been 
suggested  to  him  that  within  a  third  of  a  century  we  should 
possess  many  of  the  data  for  a  science  of  stellar  chemistry ; 
that  we  should  be  able  to  say,  for  instance,  that  Aldebaran 
contains  sodium,  magnesium,  calcium,  iron,  bismuth,  and 
antimony,  or  that  all  the  stars  hitherto  observed  with  the 
spectroscope  contain  hydrogen,  save  /3  Pegasi  and  a  Orionis, 
which  apparently  do  not !  Or  what  would  he  have  said,  had 
it  been  told  him  that,  by  the  aid  of  the  same  instrument 
which  now  enables  us  to  make  with  perfect  confidence 
these  audacious  assertions,  we  should  be  able  to  determine 
the  proper  motions  of  stars  which  present  no  parallax  !  No 
example  could  more  forcibly  illustrate  the  rashness  of  pro- 
phetically setting  limits  to  the  possible  future  advance  of 
science.  Here  are  truths  which,  within  the  memory  of  young 
men,  seemed  wholly  out  of  the  reach  of  observation,  but 
which  are  already  familiar,  and  will  soon  become  an  old 
story. 

I  believe  it  was  Comte's  neglect  of  psychological  analysis 
which  caused  him  to  be  thus  over-conservative  in  accepting 
new  discoveries,  and  over-confident  in  setting  limits  to 
scientific  achievement.  He  did  not  clearly  distinguish  be- 
tween the  rashness  of  metaphysics  and  the  well-founded 
boldness  of  science.  He  was  deeply  impressed  with  the 
futility  of  wasting  time  and  mental  energy  in  constructing 
unverifiable  hypotheses;  but  he  did  not  sufficiently  distin- 


260  COSMIC  PHILOSOPnT.  [pt.  i. 

guish  between  hypotheses  which  are  temporarily  unverifiable 
from  present  lack  of  the  means  of  observation,  and  those 
which  are  permanently  unverifiable  from  the  very  nature  of 
the  knowing  process.     There  is  no  ground  for  supposing  that 
Comte  ever  thoroughly  understood  why  we  cannot  know  the 
Absolute  and  the  Infinite.    He  knew,  as  a  matter  of  historical 
fact,  that  all  attempts  to  obtain  such  knowledge  had  miser- 
ably failed,  or  ended  in  nothing  better  than  vain  verbal  wrang- 
lings ;  but  his  ignorance  of  psychology  was  so  great  that  he 
probably  never  knew,  or  cared  to  know,  why  it  must  neces- 
sarily be  so.     Had  he  ever  once  arrived  at  the  kuowledge 
that  the  process  of  knowing  involves  the  cognition  of  like- 
ness, difference,   and    relation,    and  that   the  Absolute,   as 
presenting  none  of  these  elements,  is  trebly  unknowable,  he 
would    never   have  confounded  purely  metaphysical  hypo- 
theses with  those  which  are  only  premature  but  are  never- 
theless scientific.    He  would  have  seen,  for  instance,  that  our 
inability  to  say  positively  whether  there  are  or  are  not  living 
beings  on  Saturn  results  merely  from  our  lack  of  sufficient 
data  for  a  complete   induction ;    whereas   our  inability  to 
frame  a  tenable  hypothesis  concerning  matter  per  se  results 
from  the  eternal  fact  that  we  can  know  nothing  save  under 
the  conditions  prescribed  by  our  mental  structure.     Could 
we  contrive  a  telescope  powerful  enough  to  detect  life,  or  the 
products  of  art,  upon  a  distant  planet,  there  is  nothing  in  the 
constitution  of  our  minds  to  prevent  our  appropriating  such 
knowledge ;  but  no  patience  of  observation  or  cunning  of 
experiment  can  ever  enable  us  to  know  the  merest  pebble  as 
it  exists  out  of  relation  to  our  consciousness.     Simple  and 
obvious  as  this  distinction  appears,  there  is  much  reason  to 
believe  that  Comte  never  understood  it.    He  inveighs  against 
inquiries  into  the  proximate  origin  of  organic  life  in  exactly 
the  same  terms  in  which  he  condemns  inquiries  into  the 
ultimate  origin  of  the  universe.     He  could  not  have  done 
this  had  he  perceived  that  the  latter  question  is  for  ever 


en.  tx.]  PHILOSOPEY  AS  AN  ORGANON.  251 

insoluble  because  it  involves  absolute  beginning ;  whereas 
the  former  is  merely  a  question  of  a  particular  combination 
of  molecules,  which  we  cannot  solve  at  present  only  because 
we  have  not  yet  obtained  the  requisite  knowledge  of  the 
interactions  of  molecular  forces,  and  of  the  past  physical 
condition  of  the  earth's  surface.  In  short,  he  would  have 
seen  that,  while  the  human  mind  is  utterly  impotent  in 
the  presence  of  noumena,  it  is  well-nigh  omnipotent  in  the 
presence  of  phenomena.  In  science  we  may  be  said  to 
advance  by  geometrical  progression.  Here,  in  the  forty 
years  which  have  elapsed  since  Comte  wrote  on  physical 
science,  it  is  hardly  extravagant  to  say  that  the  progress 
has  been  as  great  as  during  the  seventeen  hundred  years 
between  Hipparchos  and  Galileo.  If  then,  in  the  three  or 
four  thousand  years  which  have  elapsed  since  Europe  began 
to  emerge  from  utter  barbarism,  we  have  reached  a  point  at 
which  we  can  begin  to  describe  the  chemical  constitution  of 
a  heavenly  body  seventy  thousand  million  miles  distant, 
what  may  not  science  be  destined  to  achieve  in  the  next 
four  thousand,  or  forty  thousand,  years  ?  We  may  rest 
assured  that  the  tale,  if  we  could  only  read  it,  would  far 
excel  in  strangeness  anything  in  the  "  Arabian  Nights  "  or 
in  the  mystic  pages  of  the  Bollandists. 

But  Comte  did  not  understand  all  this.  He,  the  great 
overthrower  and  superseder  of  metaphysics,  did  not  really 
apprehend  the  distinction  between  metaphysics  and  science. 
Hence  every  hypothesis  which  went  a  little  way  beyond  the 
limited  science  of  his  day  he  wrongly  stigmatized  as  "  meta- 
physical." Hence  he  heaped  contumely  upon  the  cell-doc- 
trine, only  three  years  before  Schwann  and  Schleiden  finally 
established  it.  And  hence,  when  he  had  occasion  to  observe 
that  certain  facts  were  not  yet  known,  he  generally  added, 
"and  probably  they  never  will  be," — though  his  prophecy 
was  not  seldom  confuted,  while  yet  warm  from  the  press. 

Toward  the  close  of  his  life,  after  he  had  become  sacer« 


258  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  pt.  i 

dotally   inclined,   this   tendency   assumed   a   moral   aspect. 
These  remote  and  audacious  inquiries  into  the  movements  of 
stars,  and  the  development  of  cellular  tissue,  and  the  origin 
of  species  should    not   only   be   pronounced   fruitless,    but 
should   be  frowned   upon   and   discountenanced    by   public 
opinion,  as  a  pernicious  waste  of  time  and  energy,  which 
might  better  be  devoted  to  nearer  and  more  practical  objects. 
It  is  a  curious  illustration  of  the  effects  of  discipleship  upon 
the  mind,   that   several   of  Comte's   disciples — Dr.  Bridges 
among  others  less  distinguished — maintain  this  same  opinion, 
for  no  earthly  reason,  I  imagine,  save  that  Comte  held  it. 
It  is  certainly  a  strange  opinion  for  a  philosopher  to  hold. 
It  bears   an  unlovely  resemblance  to  the  prejudice  of  the 
Philistines,  that  all  speculation  is  foolish  and  empty  which 
does  not  speedily  end  in  bread-and-butter  knowledge.     Who 
can  decide  what  is  useful  and  what  is  useless  ?     We  are  told 
first  that  we  shall  never  know  the  distance  to  a  star,  and 
secondly  that   even   if  we   could  know   it,  the  knowledge 
would  be  useless,  since  human  interests  are  at  the  uttermost 
bounded  by  the  solar  system.     Three  years  suffice  to  dis- 
prove the  first  part  of  the  prediction.     In  a  little  while  the 
second  part  may  also  be  disproved.     We  are  told  by  Comte 
that  it  makes  no  difference  to  us  whether  organic  species  are 
fixed  or  variable ;  and  yet,  as  the  Darwinian  controversy  has 
shown,  the  decision  of  this  question  must  affect  from  begin- 
ning to  end  our  general  conception  of  physiology,  of  psycho^ 
logy,  and  of  history,  as  well  as  our  estimate  of  theology.     If 
it  were  not  universally  felt  to  be  of  practical  consequence,  it 
would  be  argued  calmly,  and  not  with  the  weapons  of  ridicule 
and  the  odium  theologicum.     But  this  position — the  least  de- 
fensible one  which  Comte  ever  occupied — may  best  be  refuted 
by  his  own  words,  written  in  a  healthier  frame  of  mind. 
"  Tjhe  most  important  practical  results  continually  flow  from 
theories   formed   purely   with   scientific   intent,   and   which 
have  sometimes  been  pursued  for  ages  without  any  practical 


en.  ix.]  PHILOSOPHY  AS  AN  OEGANON.  253 

result.  A  remarkable  example  is  furnished  by  the  beautiful 
researches  of  the  Greek  geometers  upon  conic  sections, 
which,  after  a  long  series  of  generations,  have  renovated 
the  science  of  astronomy,  and  thus  brought  the  art  of  navi- 
gation to  a  pitch  of  perfection  which  it  could  never  have 
reached  but  for  the  purely  theoretic  inquiries  of  Archimedes 
and  Apollonios.  As  Condorcet  well  observes,  the  sailor, 
whom  an  exact  calculation  of  longitude  preserves  from  ship- 
wreck, owes  his  life  to  a  theory  conceived,  two  thousand 
years  ago,  by  men  of  genius  who  were  thinking  of  nothing 
but  lines  and  angles."  This  is  the  true  view  ;  and  we  need 
not  fear  that  the  scientific  world  will  ever  adopt  any  other. 
That  inborn  curiosity  which,  according  to  the  Hebrew  legend, 
has  already  made  us  like  gods,  knowing  good  and  evil,  will 
continue  to  inspire  us  until  the  last  secret  of  Nature  is  laid 
bare ;  and  doubtless,  in  the  untiring  search,  we  shall  uncover 
many  priceless  jewels,  in  places  where  we  least  expected  to 
find  them. 

The  foregoing  examples  will  suffice  to  illustrate  the  vague- 
ness with  which  Comte  conceived  the  limits  of  scientific  and 
of  philosophic  inquiry.  I  have  here  cited  them,  not  so  much 
for  the  sake  of  exhibiting  Comte's  mental  idiosyncrasies,  as 
for  the  sake  of  emphasizing  the  radical  difference  between 
his  conception  of  the  scope  of  philosophy  and  the  conception 
upon  which  the  Cosmic  Philosophy  is  founded.  In  giving 
to  Comte  the  credit  which  he  deserves,  for  having  heralded 
a  new  era  of  speculation  in  which  philosophy  should  be 
built  up  entirely  out  of  scientific  materials,  we  must  not 
forget  that  his  conception  of  the  kind  of  philosophy  thus  to 
be  built  up  was  utterly  and  hopelessly  erroneous.  Though 
he  insisted  upon  the  all-important  truth  that  philosophy  is 
simply  a  higher  organization  of  scientific  doctrines  aiid 
methods,  he  fell  into  the  error  of  regarding  philosophy 
merely  as  a  logical  Organon  of  the  sciences,  and  he  never 
framed  the  conception  of  philosophy  as  a  Universal  Science 


254  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [it.  i. 

in  which  the  widest  truths  obtainable  by  the  several  sciences 
are  contemplated  together  as  corollaries  of  a  single  ultimate 
truth.  Not  only  did  he  never  frame  such  a  conception,  but 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that,  had  it  ever  been  presented  to 
him  in  all  its  completeness,  he  would  have  heaped  oppro- 
brium upon  it  as  a  metaphysical  conception  utterly  foreign 
to  the  spirit  of  Positive  Philosophy.  We  have  just  seen  him 
resolutely  setting  his  face  against  those  very  scientific  specu- 
lations to  which  this  conception  of  the  scope  of  philosophy 
owes  its  origin ;  and  we  need  find  no  difficulty  in  believing 
Dr.  Bridges  when  he  says  that  the  Doctrine  of  Evolution 
would  have  appeared  to  his  master  quite  as  chimerical  as  the 
theories  by  which  Thales  and  other  Greek  cosmogonists 
"  sought  to  deduce  all  things  from  the  principle  of  Water 
or  of  Fire." 

Thus  in  a  way  that  one  would  hardly  have  anticipated,  we 
have  disclosed  a  fundamental  and  pervading  difference  be- 
tween the  Positive  and  the  Cosmic  conceptions  of  philosophy. 
The  apparently  subordinate  inquiry  into  Comte's  reasons  for 
excluding  Logic  from  his  scheme  of  sciences,  has  elicited  an 
answer  which  gravely  affects  our  estimate  of  his  whole 
system  of  thought.  That  his  conception  of  Philosophy  as 
an  Organon  was  a  noble  conception,  there  is  no  doubt ;  but 
that  it  was  radically  different  from  our  conception  of  Philo- 
sophy as  a  Synthesis,  is  equally  undeniable.  But  the  full 
depth  and  significance  of  this  distinction  will  only  be  appre- 
ciated when,  in  the  following  chapter,  we  shall  have  pointed 
out  the  end  or  purpose  for  which  this  scientific  Organon  was 
devised. 


CHAPTER  X. 

COSMISM  AND   POSITIVISM. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  chapter  on  "Phenomenon  and 
Nounienon,"  I  observed  that  it  has  become  customary  to 
identify  with  Positivism  every  philosophy  which  rejects  all 
ontological  speculation,  which  seeks  its  basis  in  the  doctrines 
and  methods  of  science,  and  which  is  accordingly  arranged 
in  opposition  to  the  current  mythologies.  The  confusion  is 
one  which,  after  having  once  been  originated,  it  is  easy  to 
maintain  but  exceedingly  difficult  to  do  away  with  ;  since  on 
the  one  hand,  it  is  manifestly  convenient  for  the  theologian 
to  fasten  upon  every  new  and  obnoxious  set  of  doctrines 
the  odium  already  attaching  to  quasi-atheistic  Positivism ; 
while  on  the  other  hand,  the  disciples  of  Comte  are  not 
unnaturally  eager  to  claim  for  themselves  every  kind  of 
modern  thinking  that  can  by  any  colourable  pretext  be 
annexed  to  their  own  province.  The  theological  magazine- 
writer,  who  perhaps  does  not  know  what  is  meant  by  the 
Pielativity  of  Knowledge  but  feels  that  there  is  something  to 
be  dreaded  in  Mr.  Mansel's  negations,  finds  an  excellent 
substitute  for  intelligent  criticism  in  the  insinuation  that 
this  doctrine  of  relativity  is  a  device  of  the  Positivists, 
who  refuse  to  admit  the  existence  of  God,  and  worship 
Humanity  "  symbolized  as  a  woman  of  thirty,  with  a  child 


256  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i. 

in  her  arms."  In  similar  wise  the  ardent  disciple  of  Comte 
— who,  so  far  as  my  experience  goes,  is  not  unlikely  to  be 
quite  as  narrow-minded  as  any  theologian — is  wont  to  claim 
all  contemporary  scientific  thinkers  as  the  intellectual  off- 
spring of  his  master,  until  their  openly  expressed  dissent 
has  reduced  him  to  the  alternative  of  stigmatizing  them 
as  "  metaphysical ; "  very  much  as  the  Pope  lays  claim  to 
the  possession  of  all  duly  baptized  Christians,1  save  those 
whom  it  has  become  necessary  to  excommunicate  and  give 
over  to  the  Devil. 

But  aside  from  these  circumstances,  which  partly  explain 
the  popular  tendency  to  classify  all  scientific  thinkers  as 
Positivists,  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  there  are  really 
plausible  reasons  why  the  Positive  Philosophy  should 
currently  be  regarded  as  representative  of  that  whole  genus 
of  contemporary  thinking  which  repudiates  the  subjective 
method,  and,  as  Mr.  Spencer  says,  "  prefers  proved  facts  to 
superstitions."  As  I  have  already  shown,  it  was  Comte  who 
first  inaugurated  a  scheme  of  philosophy  explicitly  based 
upon  the  utter  rejection  of  anthropomorphism  and  the  adop- 
tion of  none  but  scientific  doctrines  and  methods.  I  have 
already  pointed  out  how  great  are  our  obligations  to  him  for 
this  important  work,  and  I  need  not  repeat  the  acknowledg- 
ment. For  this  reason  it  is  obvious  that  whenever  the 
theological  thinker  encounters  a  system  which  as  far  as 
possible  rejects  anthropomorphic  interpretations,  and  when- 
ever the  metaphysician  encounters  a  system  which  denies 
the  validity  of  his  subjective  method,  both  the  one  and  the 
other  will  quite  naturally  regard  this  system  as  some  phase 
of  Positivism.  For  the  same  reason,  when  we  remember  how 
strong  is  the  tendency  to  "read  between  the  bines"  of  any 
system  of  thought  and  thus  to  interpret  it  in  accordance  with 
our  pre-conceptions,  we  shall  see  how  easy  it  is  for  those  who 

1  See  the  amusing  letter  of  Piua  IX.  to  the  Emperor  of  Germany,  dated 
August  7th,  1873. 


ch.  x.]  COSMISM  AND  POSITIVISM.  257 

first  derived  from  Comte  their  notions  of  scientific  method 
and  of  the  limits  of  philosophic  inquiry,  to  "  read  into  "  his 
system  all  the  later  results  of  their  intellectual  experience, 
and  thus  to  persist  in  regarding  the  whole  as  Positive 
Philosophy.  Of  this  tendency  it  seems  to  me  that  we  have 
an  illustrious  example  in  Mr.  Lewes,  the  learned  historian  of 
philosophy  and  acute  critic  of  Kant,  who  in  the  latest  edition 
of  his  "  History  "  still  maintains  that  the  agreement  between 
Comte  and  Spencer  is  an  agreement  in  fundamentals,  while 
the  differences  between  them  are  non-essential  differences. 
That  I  am  not  incapable  of  understanding  and  sympathizing 
with  this  tendency,  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  during 
eleven  years  I  espoused  the  same  plausible  error,  and  called 
myself  a  Positivist  (though  never  a  follower  of  Comte)  in  the 
same  breath  in  which  I  defended  doctrines  that  are  utterly 
incompatible  with  Positivism  in  any  legitimate  sense  of  the 
word.  So  long  as  we  allow  our  associations  with  the  words  to 
colour  and  distort  our  scrutiny  of  the  things — a  besetting  sin 
of  human  philosophizing,  from  which  none  of  us  can  hope 
to  have  entirely  freed  himself — so  long  it  is  possible  for  us  to 
construct  an  apparently  powerful  argument  in  behalf  of  the 
fundamental  agreement  between  Spencer  and  Comte.  It 
may  be  said,  for  example,  that  both  philosophers  agree  in 
asserting : 

I.  That  all  knowledge  is  relative; 
II.  That  all  unverifiable  hypotheses  are  inadmissible ; 

III.  That  the   evolution  of   philosophy,   whatever  else   it 
may  be,  has  been  a  process  of  deanthropomorphization  ; 

IV.  That  philosophy  is  a  coherent  organization  of  scientific 

doctrines  and  methods; 
V.  That  the  critical  attitude  of  philosophy  is  not  destruc- 
tive but  constructive,  not  iconoclastic  but  conservative, 
not  negative  but  positive. 
Still  confining  our  attention  to  the  form  of  these  proposi- 
tions,  and  neglecting   for  the   moment   the  very  different 
VOL.  I.  S 


258  COSMIC  PIIILOSOFHY.  [ft.  i. 

meanings  with  which  they  would  be  enunciated  respectively 
by  the  Cosmist  and  by  the  Positivist,  it  is  open  to  us  to 
maintain  that,  in  asserting  these  propositions,  Mr.  Spencer 
agrees  with  Comte  in  asserting  the  five  cardinal  theorems  of 
Positive  Philosophy.  Looking  at  the  matter  in  this  light, 
we  might  complain  that  Mr.  Spencer,  in  his  "Eeasons  for 
Dissenting,  etc.,"  accentuates  the  less  fundamental  points  in 
which  he  differs  from  Comte,  and  passes  without  emphasis 
the  more  fundamental  points  in  which  he  agrees  with  Comte. 
We  might  urge  that  while  the  "  Law  of  the  Three  Stages  "  is 
undoubtedly  incorrect,  nevertheless  the  essential  point  is  that 
men's  conceptions  of  Cause  have  been  becoming  ever  less  and 
less  anthropomorphic.  And  similarly,  when  Mr.  Spencer 
insists  that  Comte  has  not  classified  the  sciences  correctly, 
we  might  reply  that,  if  we  were  to  question  M.  Littre"  (who 
still  holds  to  the  chief  positions  of  the  Comtean  classifica- 
tion), he  would  perforce  admit  that  the  fundamental  point — 
the  ground -question,  as  Germans  say — is  not  whether  physics 
comes  after  astronomy,  or  whether  biology  is  an  abstract 
science,  but  whether  or  not  the  sciences  can  be  made  to 
furnish  all  the  materials  for  a  complete  and  unified  conception 
of  the  world. 

In  this  statement  of  the  case,  which  once  seemed  to  me 
satisfactory,  we  have  probably  the  strongest  argument  that 
can  be  devised  in  favour  of  the  identification  of  Mr.  Spencer's 
philosophy  with  Positivism,  Yet,  as  above  hinted,  and  as 
will  be  self-evident  to  everyone  who  has  comprehended  the 
foregoing  chapters,  its  apparent  strength  rests  entirely  upon 
the  verbal  ambiguity  of  the  five  cardinal  propositions,  which 
are  stated  in  such  a  way  as  to  conceal  the  real  points  at  issue 
between  the  two  philosophies.  With  regard  to  the  first  two 
propositions,  I  have  already  shown  that  they  are  in  nowise  so 
peculiar  to  Comte  that  allegiance  to  them  should  make  us 
his  disciples  or  coadjutors.  In  accepting  the  Doctrine  of 
Relativity,  as  well  as  in  receiving  from  modern  science  the 


bh.  x.]  COSMTSM  AND  POSITIVISM.  259 

inheritance  of  the  Objective  Method,  we  are  the  "  heirs  of 
all  the  ages,"  and  are  in  nowise  especially  beholden  to  Comte. 
As  regards  the  fifth  proposition,  concerning  the  critical 
attitude  of  philosophy,  the  discussion  of  it  does  not  belong 
to  our  Prolegomena  but  to  our  Corollaries,  since  before  we 
can  comprehend  it  we  must  make  sure  that  we  understand 
what  is  implied  by  the  Doctrine  of  Evolution.  In  the  con- 
cluding chapter  of  this  work  it  will  appear  that  our  dissent 
from  Positivism  is  practically  no  less  emphatic  in  respect  to 
the  critical  attitude  of  philosophy  than  in  other  respects. 
For  the  present  we  can  willingly  dispense  with  this  proo  ,  as 
our  point  will  be  quite  sufficiently  established  by  an  examina- 
tion of  the  third  and  fourth  propositions  above  alleged  as 
cardinal  alike  to  Positivism  and  to  Cosmism. 

And  first,  as  regards  the  fourth  proposition,  the  preceding 
chapter  showed  that  Comte's  conception  of  the  scope  and 
functions  of  philosophy  was  by  no  means  the  same  as  that 
which  lies  at  the  bottom  of  the  present  work.  We  have 
seen  that  he  treated  philosophy  as  merely  an  Organon  of 
scientific  methods,  and  totally  ignored  the  conception  of 
philosophy  as  a  Synthesis  of  truths  concerning  the  Cosmos. 
Now  in  order  to  comprehend  the  full  purport  of  this,  we 
must  ask  what  was  Comte's  aim  in  constructing  a  system  of 
philosophy  ?  To  what  end  was  this  elaborate  Organon  devised  ? 
It  was  not  devised  for  the  purpose  of  aiding  the  systematic 
exploration  of  nature  in  all  directions,  for  we  have  seen  that 
Comte  began  by  discouraging  and  ended  by  anathematizing 
a  large  class  of  most  important  inquiries,  chiefly  on  the 
ground  of  their  "vainness"  or  "inutility."  To  understand 
the  purpose  of  all  this  admirable  treatment  of  philosophy 
as  an  Organon,  we  must  take  into  account  the  statement  o: 
Dr.  Bridges  that  Comte's  philosophic  aims  were  not  different 
in  his  later  epoch  from  what  they  had  been  in  the  earlier 
part  of  his  career.  From  the  very  outset  Comte  intended  to 
crown  his  work  of  reorganizing  philosophy  by  constructing 

s  2 


260  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  t 

a  polity  which  should  be  competent  to  reorganize  society. 
The  belief  that  society  can  be  regenerated  by  philosophy 
is  a  belief  which  underlies  all  his  speculations  from  first  to 
last.  His  aims  were  as  practical  as  those  of  Saint-Simon 
and  Fourier,  the  difference  being  chiefly  that  these  un- 
scientific dreamers  built  their  Utopias  upon  abstract  theories 
of  human  nature,  while  Comte  sought  to  found  his  polity 
upon  the  scientific  study  of  the  actual  tendencies  of  humanity 
as  determined  by  its  past  history.  In  a  future  chapter  I 
shall  have  occasion  to  show  that  this  whole  attempt  of 
Comte's  was  based  upon  a  profound  misconception  of  the 
true  state  of  the  case.  For  the  present  we  need  only  observe 
that  with  Comte  the  construction  of  a  Philosophy  meant 
ultimately  the  construction  of  a  Sociology,  to  which  all  his 
elaborate  systematization  of  scientific  methods  was  intended 
to  be  ancillary.  Why  must  we  study  observation  in  astro- 
nomy, experiment  in  physics  and  chemistry,  comparison  in 
biology?  In  order,  says  Comte,  to  acquire  the  needful 
mental  training  for  sound  theorizing  in  sociology.  To  him 
the  various  physical  sciences  were  not  sources  from  which 
grand  generalizations  were  to  be  derived,  embracing  the 
remotest  and  most  subtle  phenomena  of  the  Universe ;  they 
were  whetstones  upon  which  to  grind  the  logical  implements 
to  be  used  in  constructing  a  theory  of  Humanity.  All  other 
theorizing  was  to  be  condemned,  save  in  so  far  as  it  could 
be  shown  to  be  in  some  way  subservient  to  this  purpose. 
Thus  Comte's  conception  of  philosophy  was  throughout  an- 
thropocentric,  and  he  utterly  ignored  the  cosmic  point  of 
view.  There  can  be  little  doubt  that  he  who,  in  1830, 
rejected  the  development-theory,  which  a  more  prescient 
thinker,  like  Goethe,  was  enthusiastically  proclaiming,  would 
have  scorned  as  chimerical  and  useless  Mr.  Spencer's  theory 
of  evolution.  We  may  now  begin  to  see  why  Comte  wished 
to  separate  Man  from  the  rest  of  the  organic  creation,  and 
why  he  was  so  eager  to  condemn  sidereal  astronomy,  the 


ch.  x.]  COSMISM  AND  POSITIVISM.  261 

study  of  which  tends  in  one  sense  to  dwarf  our  conceptions 
of  Humanity.  Comte  was  indeed  too  much  of  an  astronomer 
to  retreat  upon  the  Ptolemaic  theory,  but  in  his  later  works  he 
shows  symptoms  of  a  feeling  like  that  which  actuated  Hegel, 
when  he  openly  regretted  the  overthrow  of  the  ancient  astro- 
nomy, because  it  was  more  dignified  for  man  to  occupy  the 
centre  of  the  universe  !  It  is  true  that,  in  his  first  great 
work,  Comte  points  out  the  absurdity  of  the  theological  view 
of  man's  supremacy  in  the  universe,  and  rightly  ascribes  to 
the  Copernican  revolution  a  considerable  share  in  the  over- 
throwing of  this  view,  and  of  the  doctrine  of  final  causes, 
with  which  it  is  linked.  In  spite  of  all  this,  however,  and 
in  spite  of  his  admirable  scientific  preparation,  Comte's  con- 
ception of  philosophy  as  the  summary  of  a  hierarchy  of 
sciences,  presided  over  by  sociology,  led  him  irresistibly 
toward  the  anthropocentric  point  of  view;  and  so,  when  it 
became  necessary  for  him  to  crown  his  work  by  indicating 
its  relations  to  religion,  he  arrived,  logically  enough,  at  a 
Religion  of  Humanity,  although  in  order  to  reach  such  a 
terminus  he  was  obliged  to  throw  his  original  Positivism 
overboard  and  follow  the  subjective  method.  In  view  then 
of  all  this  complicated  difference  between  the  Positivist  con- 
ception of  philosophy  and  the  conception  expounded  in  this 
work,  I  think  we  are  quite  justified  in  designating  our  own 
conception  by  a  different  and  characteristic  name. 

But  the  most  fatal  and  irreconcilable  divergence  appears 
when  we  come  to  consider  the  third  cardinal  proposition, — 
that  which  relates  to  deanthropomorphization.  If  we  inquire 
how  it  was  that  Comte  was  enabled  to  perpetrate,  in  the 
name  of  philosophy,  such  a  prodigious  piece  of  absurdity  as 
the  deification  of  Humanity,  we  shall  find  the  explanation  to 
lie  in  his  misconception  of  what  is  meant  by  the  relativity 
of  knowledge.  A  good  illustration  of  his  confused  thinking 
on  this  subject,  to  which  I  have  already  had  occasion  to 
efer,  is  afforded  by  his  treatment  of  atheism.     Comte  had 


262  COSMIC  PHILOSOrUY.  [pi.  u 

no  patience  with  atheists,  because  of  the  chiefly  negative 
and  destructive  character  of  the  atheistic  philosophy  domi- 
nant in  the  eighteenth  century.  But  when  he  lets  us  into 
his  philosophic  reasons  for  rejecting  atheism,  we  find  him 
complaining  of  the  atheists,  not  because  of  their  denial  of 
Deity,  nor  because  their  doctrine  contravenes  the  relativity  of 
knowledge,  but  because  they  indulge  in  "  metaphysical  at- 
tempts to  explain  the  origin  of  life  upon  the  earth's  sur- 
face." (!)  On  reading  such  passages,  it  becomes  sufficiently 
evident  that  Comte  did  not  really  understand  why  meta- 
physical inquiries  are  illegitimate,  but  rejected  them  very 
much  as  the  general  reader  might  reject  them,  because  they 
muddled  his  mind;  and  we  may  acknowledge  the  justice  of 
Prof.  Huxley's  sarcasm,  that  "  metaphysics  "  is,  with  Comte  a 
"general  term  of  abuse  for  anything  that  he  does  not  like." 
Certain  it  is  that  Comte  never  understood  the  true  import  of 
the  doctrine  of  relativity,  as  it  is  stated  in  our  fourth  chapter, 
— that  there  exists  an  Unknowable  Eeality,  of  which  all  phe- 
nomena, as  presented  in  consciousness,  are  the  knowable 
manifestations.  As  I  have  already  observed,  his  most  illus- 
trious follower,  M.  Littre\  unreservedly  stigmatizes  as  "meta- 
physical "  this  very  doctrine  of  the  Unknowable,  upon  which 
the  Cosmic  Philosophy  bases  its  rejection  of  metaphysics. 
Had  Comte  ever  understood  this  doctrine,  he  would  neither 
have  sought  to  impose  upon  us  a  phenomenal  God,  in  the 
form  of  idealized  Humanity,  nor  would  he  have  virtually 
abandoned  his  original  Positivism  in  the  wild  attempt  to 
"regenerate"  the  subjective  method.  All  these  things  show 
that  Comte  never  really  fathomed  the  distinction  between 
metaphysics  and  science ;  and  as  the  final  outcome  of  all 
this  complicated  misconception,  we  find  him,  in  his  famous 
"  Law  of  the  Three  Stages,"  setting  forth  as  the  goal  of  all 
speculative  progress  a  state  or  habitude  of  mind  which  never 
has  existed  and  which  never  can  exist.  Herein  the  antago- 
nism between  Cosmism  and  Positivism  becomes  so  funda- 


ch.  x.]  COSMISM  AND  POSITIVISM.  263 

mental  as  to  outweigh  all  minor  points  of  agreement,  even 
were  the  points  of  agreement  ten  times  as  numerous  as  they 
are.  For  since  we  deny  that  the  Positive  mode  of  philoso- 
phizing, implying  the  recognition  of  nothing  beyond  the 
contents  of  observed  facts,  is  a  practicable  mode  at  all,  it  is 
clear  that  we  cannot,  save  by  the  utter  distortion  and  per- 
version of  human  speech,  be  classified  as  Positivists. 

Casting  aside,  then,  our  third  and  fourth  cardinal  proposi- 
tions, temporarily  assumed  for  the  purpose  of  emphasizing 
this  rejection  of  them,  we  may  briefly  restate  as  follows  the 
fundamental  issue  between  Cosmism  and  Positivism. 

We  have  seen  that  Comte  discerned  the  fact  that  there 
has  been  a  continuous  progress  in  men's  conceptions,  of 
which  the  chief  symptom  has  been  deanthropomorphization, 
and  of  which  the  result  must  be  the  destruction  of  ontology. 
He  also  discerned  the  fact,  that  after  giving  up  ontology,  it 
is  still  possible  to  build  up  a  philosophy  out  of  materials 
furnished  by  the  sciences.  We  have  freely  admitted  that,  in 
each  of  these  cases,  the  step  taken  by  Comte  was  sufficient 
to  work  a  revolution  in  the  attitude  of  philosophy ;  and  we 
may  add  that,  by  virtue  of  this  twofold  advance,  Comte  was 
justified  in  calling  his  system  of  philosophy  "  positive,"  in 
contrast  with  the  absolutely  sceptical  or  "  negative "  philo- 
sophy of  the  eighteenth  century. 

But,  while  admitting  all  this,  we  have  also  seen  that 
Comte  supposed  the  terminal  phase  of  deanthropomorphi- 
zation to  consist  in  the  ignoring  of  an  Absolute  Power  mani- 
fested in  the  world  of  phenomena;  and  that  he  regarded 
philosophy  merely  as  an  Organon  of  scientific  methods  and 
doctrines  useful  in  constructing  a  theory  of  Humanity  and 
a  social  Polity.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Cosmic  Philosophy 
is  founded  upon  the  recognition  of  an  Absolute  Power  mani- 
fested in  and  through  the  world  of  phenomena ;  and  it 
consists  in  a  Synthesis  of  scientific  truths  into  a  Universal 
Science  dealing  with   the   order   of  the  phenomenal  niani- 


264  COSMIC  nilLOSOniY.  [pt.  i. 

festations  of  the  Absolute  Power.  And  manifestly  these 
differences  between  the  two  systems  of  philosophy  constitute 
an  antagonism  which  is  fundamental  and  irreconcilable.  If 
the  Positivist  conception  of  philosophy  be  true,  then  the 
work  which  I  am  now  writing  is  founded  upon  a  baseless 
metaphysical  fallacy;  and  conversely  it  is  impossible  to 
accept  the  doctrine  expounded  in  this  work,  without  ipso 
facto  declaring  the  main  position  of  Positivism  to  be  un- 
tenable. 

I  shall  hereafter  have  occasion  to  examine  the  views  con- 
cerning Psychology,  Sociology,  Religion,  and  Practice,  which 
are  characteristic  of  the  Positive  Philosophy;  and,  as  here- 
tofore, while  dissenting  from  those  views  in  every  instance,  I 
shall  have  no  hesitation  in  acknowledging  their  merits  or  in 
assigning  a  full  meed  of  homage  to  the  great  thinker  by 
whom  they  were  propounded.  But  while  my  dissent  upon 
all  these  points  will  serve  to  emphasize  and  illustrate  the 
fundamental  dissent  declared  in  these  Prolegomena,  it  will  not 
be  needful  again  to  demonstrate  in  detail  that  we  are  not 
adherents  of  the  Positive  Philosophy.  With  thrice-reite- 
rated argument,  and  at  the  risk  of  wearying  the  reader, 
it  has  now  been  made  sufficiently  evident  that  Cosmism  and 
Positivism,  far  from  being  identical  or  identifiable  with  each 
other,  are  in  a  certain  sense  the  two  opposite  poles  of 
scientific  philosophizing.  And  in  virtue  of  this  demon- 
strated antagonism,  the  divergences  hereafter  to  be  signalized 
will  appear  not  merely  as  easily  intelligible  but  even  as 
a  priori  inevitable. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE   QUESTION    STATED. 

We  have  now  accomplished  our  preliminary  task  of  defining 
and  illustrating  the  scope  and  methods  of  Cosmic  Philosophy, 
and  are  prepared  to  begin  the  work  of  constructing  a  theory 
of  the  universe  out  of  the  elements  which  science  can 
furnish.  It  will  accordingly  become  necessary  for  us  to  pass 
in  review  the  sciences  systematized  in  the  eighth  chapter, 
that  we  may  be  enabled  to  contemplate  the  widest  truths 
which  they  severally  reveal,  as  corollaries  of  some  ultimate 
truth.  In  undertaking  this  task,  there  are  two  opposite 
courses,  either  of  which  we  might  pursue,  though  with 
differing  degrees  and  kinds  of  success.  On  the  one  hand,  we 
might  begin  with  a  survey  of  the  concrete  sciences ;  and 
having  ascertained  the  most  general  truths  respectively 
formulated  by  astronomy,  geology,  biology,  psychology,  and 
sociology,  we  might  interpret  all  these  truths  in  common  by 
merging  them  all  in  a  single  widest  generalization  concerning 
the  concrete  universe  as  a  whole ;  and  lastly,  through  an 
analysis  of  this  widest  generalization  we  might  seek  the 
ultimate  axiom  by  which  the  validity  of  our  conclusions  is 
certified.  Or,  on  the  other  hand,  we  might  begin  by  searching 
directly  for  this  ultimate  axiom  ;  and  having  found  it,  we 
might  proceed  to  deduce  from  it  that  widest  generalization 


266  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  «• 

which  interprets  the  most  general  truths  severally  formulated 
by  the  concrete  sciences ;  and  finally,  by  the  help  of  these 
universal  principles,  we  might  perhaps  succeed  in  eliciting 
sundry  generalizations  concerning  particular  groups  of 
concrete  phenomena  which  might  otherwise  escape  our 
scrutiny. 

The  latter,  or  synthetic  method  of  procedure,  is  much 
better  adapted  for  our  present  purpose  than  the  former,  or 
analytic  method.  Indeed  the  mass  of  phenomena  with  which 
we  are  required  to  deal  is  so  vast  and  so  heterogeneous,  the 
various  generalizations  which  we  are  required  to  interpret  in 
common  are  apparently  so  little  related  to  one  another,  that 
it  may  well  be  doubted  if  the  appliances  of  simple  induction 
and  analysis  would  ever  suffice  to  bring  us  within  sight  of  our 
prescribed  goal.  The  history  of  scientific  discovery  affords 
numerous  illustrations — and  nowhere  more  convincingly  than 
in  the  sublime  chapter  which  tells  the  triumph  of  the 
Newtonian  astronomy — of  the  comparative  helplessness  of 
mere  induction  where  the  phenomena  to  be  explained  are 
numerous  and  complicated.  A  simple  tabulation  and  analysis 
of  the  planetary  movements  would  never  have  disclosed, 
even  to  Newton's  penetrating  gaze,  the  law  of  dynamics  to 
which  those  movements  conform.  But  in  these  complicated 
cases,  where  induction  has  remained  hopelessly  embarrassed, 
the  most  brilliant  success  has  often  resulted  from  the  adop- 
tion of  a  hypothesis  by  which  the  phenomena  have  been 
deductively  interpreted,  and  which  has  been  uniformly 
corroborated  by  subsequent  inductions.  The  essential 
requisite  in  such  an  hypothesis  is  that  it  must  have  been 
framed  in  rigorous  conformity  to  the  requirements  of  the 
objective  method.  It  must  be  based  upon  properties  of 
matter  or  principles  of  dynamics  that  have  previously  been 
established  or  fully  confirmed  by  induction ;  it  must  appeal 
to  no  unknown  agency,  nor  invoke  any  unknown  attribute  of 
matter  or  motion  ;  and  it  must  admit  ultimately  of  inductive 


ch.  xi.]  THE  QUESTION  STATED.  267 

verification.  Such  a  hypothesis,  in  short,  is  admissible  only 
when  it  contains  no  unverifiable  element.  And  of  hypotheses 
framed  in  accordance  with  these  rigorous  requirements,  the 
surest  mark  of  genuineness  is  usually  that  they  are  not  only 
uniformly  verified  by  the  phenomena  which  first  suggested 
them,  but  also  help  us  to  the  detection  of  other  relations 
among  phenomena  which  would  otherwise  have  remained 
hidden  from  us. 

In  conformity,  then,  to  these  requirements  of  scientific 
method,  our  course  is  clearly  marked  out  for  us.  We  have 
first  to  search,  among  truths  already  indisputably  established, 
for  that  ultimate  truth  which  must  underlie  our  Synthesis  of 
scientific  truths.  We  have  next  to  show  how  the  widest 
generalization  which  has  yet  been  reached  concerning  the 
concrete  universe  as  a  whole,  may  be  proved  to  follow,  as  an 
inevitable  corollary,  from  this  ultimate  truth.  This  widest 
generalization  will  thus  appear,  in  the  light  of  our  demonstra- 
tion, as  a  legitimate  hypothesis,  which  we  may  verify  by 
showing  that  the  widest  generalizations  severally  obtainable 
in  the  concrete  sciences  are  included  in  it  and  receive  their 
common  interpretation  from  it.  Throughout  the  earlier  part 
of  this  special  verification,  in  which  we  shall  be  called  upon 
to  survey  the  truths  furnished  respectively  by  astronomy, 
geology,  biology,  and  psychology,  I  shall  follow  closely  in  the 
footsteps  of  Mr.  Spencer,  who  has  already  elaborately 
illustrated  these  truths  in  the  light  of  the  Doctrine  of 
Evolution.  When  we  arrive  at  sociology — still  following 
Mr.  Spencer's  guidance,  but  venturing  into  a  region  which  he 
has  as  yet  but  cursorily  and  fragmentarily  surveyed  for  us — 
I  shall  endeavour  to  show  that  our  main  hypothesis  presents 
the  strongest  indications  of  its  genuineness  by  affording  a 
brilliant  interpretation  of  sundry  social  phenomena  never 
before  grouped  together  under  a  general  law.  This  interpreta- 
tion I  shall  then  seek  further  to  verify  by  showing  how  it 
includes  and  justifies  whatever  is  defensible,  in  the  generaliza- 


268  COSMIC  PBILOSOPJJ  Y.  [pt.  i. 

tious  which  such  writers  as  Comte  and  Buckle  have  obtained 
from  an  inductive  survey  of  the  facts  of  human  history. 
Finally  I  shall  apply  our  central  hypothesis  to  the  special 
problem  of  the  Origin  of  Man,  and  show  how,  from  its 
marvellous  success  in  dealing  with  the  difficult  questions  of 
intellectual  and  moral  progressiveness,  the  Doctrine  of 
Evolution  must  be  pronounced  to  have  sustained  the  severest 
test  of  verification  which  our  present  scientific  resources 
enable  us  to  apply  upon  this  great  scale.  With  this  most 
significant  and  interesting  inquiry,  our  Synthesis  of  scientific 
doctrines  will  be  completed.  Such  ultimate  questions  as 
must  inevitably  be  suggested  on  our  route — questions  con- 
cerning the  relations  of  the  Doctrine  of  Evolution  to  Eeligion 
and  Ethics — will  be  considered,  with  the  help  of  the  general 
principles  then  at  our  command,  in  the  Corollaries  which  are 
to  follow. 

At  present,  however,  we  are  not  at  the  goal,  but  at  the 
starting-point  of  this  arduous  course  ;  and  our  attention 
must  first  be  directed  to  the  search  for  that  ultimate  axiom 
upon  which  our  Synthesis  must  rest.  Where  now  shall  we 
be"in  ?  In  what  class  of  sciences  are  we  to  look  for  our 
primordial  principle  ?  The  above  survey  of  our  projected 
course  has  already  assured  us  that  we  need  not  search  for  it 
among  the  concrete  sciences.  Obviously  the  widest  proposi- 
tion which  can  possibly  be  furnished  by  astronomy,  or  biology, 
or  any  other  concrete  science,  cannot  be  wide  enough  to 
underlie  a  Synthesis  of  all  the  sciences.  The  most  general 
theorems  of  biology  are  not  deducible  from  the  most  general 
theorems  of  astronomy ;  nor  vice  versa.  But  the  most  general 
theorems  of  each  concrete  science  are  ultimately  deducible 
from  theorems  lying  outside  the  region  of  concrete  science. 
Where  shall  we  find  such  theorems?  If  we  turn  to  the 
purely  abstract  sciences — logic  and  mathematics — we  shall 
get  but  little  help.  Useful  as  these  sciences  are,  as  engines 
of   investigation,   they   do   not  contain   what  we   are   now 


ch.    xi.]  THE  QUESTION  STATED.  269 

looking  for.  Obviously  mathematics,  dealing  only  with 
relations  of  number,  form,  and  magnitude,  cannot  supply  the 
ultimate  principle  from  which  may  be  deduced  such  pheno- 
mena as  the  condensation  of  a  nebula,  the  segmentation  of 
an  ovum,  or  the  development  of  a  tribal  community.  To 
build  a  system  of  philosophy  upon  any  possible  theorem  of 
mathematics,  would  only  be  to  repeat,  after  twenty-four 
centuries,  the  errors  of  Pythagoras.  And  the  helplessness  of 
abstract  logic,  for  our  purposes,  is  too  manifest  to  need 
illustration. 

Let  us  then  turn  to  the  abstract- concrete  sciences ;  for  in 
the  widest  generalizations  at  which  these  sciences  have  jointly 
arrived  we  must  find,  if  anywhere,  the  theorem  which  we 
desire.  I  say  "jointly,"  for  in  the  deepest  sense  the  subject- 
matter  is  the  same,  in  molar  physics,  in  molecular  physics, 
and  in  chemistry.  All  three  sciences  deal,  in  one  way  or 
another,  with  the  most  general  laws  of  those  redistributions 
of  matter  and  motion  which  are  continually  going  on 
throughout  the  knowable  universe.  The  first  deals  with  the 
movements  of  masses ;  the  second  deals  with  movements  of 
molecules,  and  with  the  laws  of  aggregation  of  molecules 
that  are  homogeneous ;  the  third  deals  with  the  laws  of 
aggregation  of  molecules  that  are  heterogeneous.  In  either 
case  the  phenomena  dealt  with  are  movements  of  matter, 
whether  movements  of  translation  through  space,  or  move- 
ments of  undulation  among  molecules,  or  movements  whose 
conspicuous  symptom  is  change  of  physical  state  or  of 
chemical  constitution.  The  widest  theorems,  therefore, 
which  the  three  abstract-concrete  sciences  can  unite  in 
affirming,  must  be  universal  propositions  concerning  Matter 
and  Motion. 

Obviously  it  is  in  this  region  of  science  that  we  must  look 
for  our  primordial  theorem.  But  little  reflection  is  needed 
to  convince  us  that  all  the  truths  attainable  by  the  concrete 
sciences  must  ultimately  rest  upon  truths  relating  to  the 


270  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  i 

movements  of  matter.  It  is  with  the  movements,  actual  or 
inferred,  of  certain  specific  masses  of  matter,  that  astronomy 
in  both  its  branches  is  concerned.  Movements  of  matter, 
likewise,  in  a  specific  region  of  the  universe,  and  under 
specific  conditions  characteristic  of  this  region,  constitute 
the  facts  about  which  geology  speculates.  "We  need  but 
remember  that  nutrition  is  at  bottom  merely  a  process  in 
which  certain  molecules  shift  their  positions,  and  that  the 
life  of  an  organism  is  simply  a  long-continued  series  of 
adjustments  and  readjustments  among  mutually-related  and 
mutually-influencing  systems  of  aggregated  molecules,  in 
order  to  see  that  the  fundamental  laws  of  the  movements  of 
matter  must  underlie  biology  also.  And  although  the 
phenomena  of  mind — whether  manifested  in  individuals  or 
in  communities — cannot  be  explained  as  movements  of 
matter ;  yet,  as  will  be  hereafter  shown,  there  is  no  mental 
phenomenon  which  does  not  involve,  as  its  material  correlate, 
some  chemical  change  in  nerve-tissue  consisting  in  a  redis- 
tribution of  molecules ;  so  that  in  psychology  and  sociology 
likewise,  our  conclusions  must  become  ultimately  implicated 
with  theorems  concerning  matter  and  motion.  Thus  in  every 
department  of  concrete  science,  the  leading  problem  is  in 
some  way  or  other,  either  directly  or  indirectly  or  very 
remotely,  concerned  with  distributions  and  redistributions 
of  matter  and  motion ;  and  in  all  our  specific  conclusions 
pome  general  conclusion  relating  to  movements  of  matter 
must  be  directly  or  indirectly  or  very  remotely  involved. 

Our  course  is  thus  still  more  definitely  marked  out.  We 
must  first  search  for  the  deepest  attainable  truth  respecting 
matter  and  motion  abstractly  considered.  We  must  pursue 
this  truth  and  its  corollaries,  among  the  most  general  groups 
of  phenomena  in  which  these  corollaries  are  exemplified, 
until  we  arrive  at  some  concrete  result  concerning  the  most 
general  aspects  of  that  redistribution  of  matter  and  motion 
which  is   everywhere  going   on.     And  upon   this  concrete 


ch.  xi.]  THE  QUESTION  STATED.  271 

result  we  shall  find  that  universal  generalization  to  be  based, 
the  validity  of  which  we  have  afterwards  to  certify  by  its 
agreement  with  inductions  drawn  from  the  several  groups  of 
phenomena  with  which  the  concrete  sciences  deal. 

Here,  before  proceeding  further,  we  may  fitly  pause  for  a 
moment,  to  relieve  a  puzzling  doubt  which  may  ere  this  have 
disturbed  the  mind  of  the  reader.  Did  we  not  elaborately 
prove,  in  our  opening  chapter,  that  concerning  the  move- 
ments of  molecules  and  their  aggregation  into  masses,  not 
only  nothing  can  be  known,  but  no  tenable  hypothesis  can 
be  framed  ?  Did  we  not,  with  full  knowledge  of  what 
we  were  doing,  hang  up  as  the  very  sign-board  of  our 
<ppovTt(TT7]ptov  or  philosophy- shop,  the  proposition  that  all 
that  either  sense  or  reason  can  tell  us  concerning  the  inti- 
mate structure  of  a  block  of  wood  is  utterly  and  hopelessly 
delusive?  Did  we  not  show  that  the  hypothesis  of  attractive 
and  repulsive  forces  lands  us  straightway  in  an  insoluble 
contradiction  ?  Did  we  not  find  it  impossible  to  get  rid  of 
the  difficulties  which  surround  the  conception  of  an  atom  or 
a  molecule,  whether  regarded  as  divisible  or  as  indivisible  ? 
And  did  we  not  conclude  that  the  conception  of  matter 
acting  upon  matter  is  a  pseud-conception  which  can  by  no 
effort  be  construed  in  consciousness  ? — Yet  in  spite  of  all 
this,  it  may  be  said,  we  are  about  to  base  the  entire  following 
Synthesis  upon  preliminary  conclusions  relating  to  the  move- 
ments of  molecules  and  their  aggregation  into  masses ;  we 
are  likely  to  draw  inferences  from  the  assumed  intimate 
structure  of  certain  bodies ;  we  have  inevitably  to  make  use 
of  the  hypothesis  of  attractive  and  repulsive  forces ;  we 
shall  constantly  have  tacit  reference  to  the  conception  of 
atoms  and  molecules ;  and  we  shall  be  obliged  to  take 
account  of  matter  as  constrained  in  its  movements  by  other 
neighbouring  matter.  Is  there  not  here,  it  may  be  asked,  a 
reductio  ad  absurdum,  either  of  the  Synthesis  which  is  to 
follow,  or  of  the  initial  arguments  upon  which  the  claims  of 


272  COSMIC  riTILOSOPIIY.  vr.  l 

such  a  Synthesis  to  stand  for  the  whole  of  attainable  philo- 
sophy were  partly  based  ? 

I  state  this  dilemma  as  strongly  as  possible,  because  it 
forcibly  illustrates  the  omnipresence  of  Mystery, — because  it 
shows  how,  beneath  every  physical  problem,  there  lies  a 
metaphysical  problem  whereof  no  human  cunning  can  detect 
the  solution.  Practically,  however,  the  avenue  of  escape  has 
sometime  since  been  implicitly  indicated, — in  the  fifth  and 
sixth  chapters  of  these  Prolegomena.  In  the  chapter  on 
Causation  it  was  shown  that,  though  we  can  in  nowise 
conceive  matter  as  acting  upon  matter,  yet,  for  the  purposes 
of  common-sense,  of  science  and  of  philosophy,  it  is  quite 
enough  that  one  kind  of  phenomenal  manifestation  is  in- 
variably and  unconditionally  succeeded  by  some  other  kind 
of  phenomenal  manifestation.  And  in  characterizing  the 
Subjective  and  Objective  Methods,  we  saw  that  the  truth  of 
any  proposition,  for  scientific  purposes,  is  determined  by  its 
agreement  with  observed  phenomena,  and  not  by  its  con- 
gruity  with  some  assumed  metaphysical  basis.  For  example, 
the  entire  Newtonian  astronomy — the  most  elaborate  and 
finished  scientific  achievement  of  the  human  mind — rests  upon 
a  hypothesis  which,  if  metaphysically  interpreted,  is  simply 
inconceivable.  The  conception  of  matter  attracting  matter 
through  an  intervening  tract  of  emptiness  is  a  conception 
which  it  is  impossible  to  frame, — and  Newton  knew  it,  or 
felt  it  to  be  so.  But  nowhere  did  his  unrivalled  wisdom 
show  itself  more  impressively  than  in  this, — that  he  accu- 
rately discriminated  between  the  requirements  of  science 
and  the  requirements  of  metaphysics,  and  clearly  saw  that, 
while  metaphysics  is  satisfied  with  nothing  short  of  absolute 
subjective  congruity,  it  is  quite  enough  for  a  scientific  hypo- 
thesis that  it  gives  a  correct  description  of  the  observed 
coexistences  and  sequences    among  phenomena.1     In  truth, 

1  This  is  distinctly  stated  by  Copernicus :  "  Neque  enim  necesse  est  eas 
hypotheses  esse  veras,  imo  ne  verisimile  quidem,  sed  sufficit  hoc  iinum,  si 


ch.  xi.]  THE  QUESTION  STATED.  273 

for  scientific  purposes,  we  are  no  more  required  to  conceive 
the  action  of  matter  upon  matter  in  the  case  of  gravitation 
than  in  any  other  case  of  physical  causation.  All  that  the 
hypothesis  really  asserts  is  that  matter,  in  the  presence  of 
other  matter,  will  alter  its  space-relations  in  a  specified  way ; 
and  there  is  no  reference  whatever  to  any  metaphysical 
occulta  vis  which  passes  from  matter  in  one  place  to  matter 
in  another  place. 

There  is,  however,  no  good  ground  for  objecting  to  the 
use  of  the  phrase  "  attraction,"  provided  it  be  employed  only 
as  a  scientific  artifice.  There  is  a  certain  sense  in  which 
science,  as  well  as  legal  practice,  has  its  "  fictions  "  that  are 
eminently  useful.  The  lines  and  circles  with  which  geometry 
deals  have  nothing  answering  to  them  in  nature;  and  the 
analyst  employs  a  "  scientific  fiction "  when  he  deals  with 
infinitesimals,  since  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  a  quantity 
less  than  any  assignable  quantity.  In  like  manner,  there  is 
nothing  objectionable  in  using  language  which  assimilates 
the  case  of  a  planet  revolving  about  the  sun  to  the  case  of  a 
stone  whirled  at  the  end  of  a  string;  for  there  is  real 
similarity  between  the  phenomena.  So  if  the  science  of 
chemistry  had  been  obliged  to  wait  until  all  the  metaphysical 
difficulties  which  encompass  the  conception  of  a  molecule  or 
an  atom  had  been  cleared  away,  it  might  well  have  waited 
until  the  end  of  the  world.  Quite  likely  the  "atom"  in 
chemistry  is  as  much  a  "  scientific  fiction "  as  the  "  infini- 
tesimal" in  algebra:  but  we  cannot  therefore  complain  of 
the  chemist  for  assigning  to  it  shape  and  dimensions,  pro- 
vided he  makes  a  scientific  and  not  a  metaplr,  sical  use  of 
the  artifice.  In  the  region  of  science  such  a  fiction  is  no 
more  illegitimate  than  that  fiction  in  the  region  of  common- 
sense  by  which  I  judge  this  writing-table  to  be  solid,  while, 
for  aught  I  know  to  the  contrary,  the  empty  spaces  between 

calculum  observationibus  congruentem  exhibeant." — See  Lewes,  Aristotle, 
p.  92  ;  Problems  of  Life  and  Mind,  vol.  i.  p.  317. 

VOL.  L  T 


274  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  l 

its  particles  may  be  as  much  greater  than  the  particles  as  the 
interstellar  spaces  are  greater  than  the  stars.  We  need  have 
no  hesitation,  therefore,  in  dealing  with  the  aggregations  of 
atoms  and  molecules,  after  the  manner  of  the  chemical 
philosopher,  or  with  attractive  and  repulsive  forces,  after  the 
manner  of  the  physicist,  so  long  as  we  take  care  that  the 
substance  of  our  propositions  has  reference  only  to  verifiable 
coexistences  and  sequences  among  phenomena. 

Another  possible  difficulty  may  be  now  more  summarily 
disposed  of.     If  it  be  urged  that  to  frame  a  "  generalization 
concerning  the  concrete  universe  as  a  whole  "  is  manifestly 
to  transgress  the  limits  of  sound  philosophizing,  since  we 
can  never  know  but  a  tiny  portion  of  the  concrete  universe, 
and  can  never  even  know  how  much  there  is  that  lies  beyond 
our  ken ;  if  such  an  objection  be  urged  against  the  under- 
taking planned  in  the  present  chapter,  we  may  again  appeal 
to  Newton  as  witness  in  our  favour.     The  law  of  gravitation 
is   expressed   in   terms   that   are   strictly   universal, — terms 
which  imply  that  wherever  matter  exists,  be  it  a  million 
times  more  remote  than  the  outermost  limit  of  telescopic 
vision,  the  phenomena  of  gravitation  must  be  manifested. 
Comte,  indeed,  questioned  the  legitimacy  of  extending  the 
generalization  beyond  the  limits  of  the  solar  system.     But 
his  doubt,  which  facts  so  soon  refuted,  was  based  on  in- 
adequate knowledge  of  the  psychological  aspect  of  the  case. 
Newton's  hypothesis  simply  detected   and  generalized   the 
mode  of  manifestation  of  one  of  those  properties  by  virtue 
of  which  matter  is  matter ;  and  he  was  justified,  according 
to  the  principles  laid  down  in  our  third  chapter,  in  basing 
a  universal  proposition  upon  a  single  instance.     The  final 
test  of  the  presence  of  matter  is  the  manifestation  of  the 
gravitative  tendency  ;  and  such  must  be  the  case  so  long  as 
we  are  unable  to  transcend  experience.    As  I  before  observed, 
it  is   quite   possible   that   there   may  be  worlds   in   which 
numerical  limitations  like  ours  are  not  binding,  and  so  it  is 


ch.  xi.]  TEE  QUESTION  STATED.  276 

very  possible  that  there  may  he  worlds  in  which  there  is 
neither  matter  nor  gravity.  But  any  such  possible  worlds, 
standing  entirely  out  of  relation  to  our  experience,  are 
practically  non-existent  for  a  philosophy  which  is  based  on 
the  organization  of  experience. 

Now,  though  the  law  of  evolution  is  not,  like  the  law  of 
gravitation,  the  generalization  of  a  property  of  matter,  it  is 
still  the  generalization  of  certain  concrete  results  of  known 
properties  of  matter.  And  the  universality  which  in  the 
following  chapters  will  be  claimed  for  this  generalization,  is 
precisely  like  the  universality  claimed  for  the  law  of  gravi- 
tation. The  law  of  evolution  professes  to  formulate  the 
essential  characteristics  of  a  ceaseless  redistribution  of 
matter  and  motion  that  must  go  on  wherever  matter  and 
motion  possess  the  attributes  by  which  we  know  them.  In 
Mr.  Mill's  hypothetical  world  where  two  and  two  make 
five,  the  law  of  evolution  may  not  hold  sway.  But  within 
the  limits  of  our  experience,  the  law  is  a  "generalization 
concerning  the  concrete  universe  as  a  whole ; "  and  if 
it  be  satisfactorily  verified,  we  shall  have  achieved  that 
organization  of  scientific  truths  into  a  coherent  body  of 
doctrine,  which  has  been  shown  to  be  the  legitimate  aim  of 
Philosophy. 

Here  in  conclusion  we  may  again  call  attention  to  the 
significance  of  the  phrase  by  which  I  have  designated  the 
kind  of  philosophy  that  is  expounded  in  this  work.  We 
may  reiterate  the  statement,  which  has  already  been  illustrated 
from  various  points  of  view,  that  our  philosophy  is  peculiarly 
entitled  to  the  name  of  Cosmic  Philosophy.  For  while  it 
may  be  urged  that  earlier  philosophies  have  also  been  cosmic, 
in  so  far  as  they  have  sought  to  offer  some  explanation  of  the 
universe,  on  the  other  hand  it  must  be  acknowledged  that 
never  before  has  the  business  of  philosophy,  regarded  as  a 
theory  of  the  universe,  been  undertaken  with  so  clear  and 
distinct  a   conception   of    its   true    scope   and    limitations. 

T  2 


276  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  i. 

Though  other  thinkers,  before  Mr.  Spencer,  may  have  gene- 
ralized about  the  concrete  universe  as  a  whole,  it  cannot  be 
denied  that  he  has  been  the  first  to  frame  a  verifiable  hypo- 
thesis upon  this  stupendous  scale.  The  law  of  evolution 
is  the  first  generalization  concerning  the  concrete  universe 
as  a  whole,  which  has  been  framed  in  conscious  conformity 
to  the  rigorous  requirements  of  the  objective  method,  and 
which  has  therefore  served  to  realize  the  prophetic  dream 
of  Bacon,  by  presenting  Philosophy  as  an  organism  of 
which  the  various  sciences  are  members.  Obviously  a 
system  which  has  achieved,  or  consciously  sought  to  achieve, 
such  a  result,  is  entitled  par  excellence  to  the  name  of 
Cosmic  Philosophy.  It  has  been  the  first  to  give  practical 
realization  to  that  sublime  thought  of  two  master  minds, 
which  I  have  inscribed  at  the  head  of  this  work : — 

"  To  a  thinker  capable  of  comprehending  it  from  a  single 
point  of  view,  the  universe  would  present  but  a  single  fact, 
but  one  all-comprehensive  truth;  and  it  is  for  this  reason 
that  we  call  it  Cosmos,  and  not  chaos." 


PART  IL 

SYNTHESIS. 

MJe  onvollkommener  das  Geschopf  1st,  desto  mehr  sind  diesa  Theile 
einander  gleich  oder  ahnlich,  tmd  desto  mehr  gleichen  sio  dem  Ganzen.  Je 
vollkommener  das  Geschopf  wird,  desto  unahnlicher  werden  die  Theile 
einander.  Je  ahnlicher  die  Theile  einander  sind,  desto  weniger  sind  sie 
einander  subordinirt.  Die  subordination  der  Theile  dentet  auf  ein  voJl- 
bommneres  Geschbpt" — Goethe,  Zur  Morphologic     1807. 


CHAPTER  I. 

MATTER,   MOTION,  AND   FORCE. 

In  the  third  took  of  the  "Philosophie  Positive,"  Comte 
observes  that  it  can  hardly  be  by  accident  that  the  word 
"  Physics,"  which  originally  denoted  the  study  of  the  whole 
of  nature,  should  have  become  restricted  to  that  science  which 
deals  with  the  most  abstract  and  general  laws  of  the  re- 
arrangement of  Matter  and  Motion.  This  is  one  of  the 
many  profound  remarks  scattered  through  Comte's  writings, 
the  full  significance  of  which  he  could  hardly  himself  have 
realized.1  For  it  will  now  appear — as  the  preceding  chapter 
taught  us  to  expect — that  the  study  of  Physics  (including 
under  that  name,  for  the  moment,  the  three  abstract-concrete 
sciences)  underlies  the  study  of  the  whole  of  nature,  and 
discloses  those  universal  truths  upon  which  a  Synthesis  of 
the  widest  truths  disclosed  by  the  concrete  sciences  must 
repose.  It  investigates  the  general  phenomena  of  matter, 
motion,  and   force ;  while  the  concrete  sciences  investigate 

1  For  immediately  afterwards  we  find  Comte  basing  the  organic  sciences 
upon  physics,  but  excluding  astronomy,  which  he  calls  an  "emanation  from 
mathematics."  It  is  indeed  difficult  to  see  how  astronomy,  which  involves 
the  physical  ideas  of  matter,  motion,  and  force,  can  be  an  emanation  from 
mathematics,  which  involves  only  the  purely  abstract  ideas  of  space  and 
number.  In  fact,  as  above  shown  (part  i.  chap.  viii. ),  astronomy,  no  less 
than  the  other  concrete  sciences,  is  dependent  upon  physics.  Here,  as 
elsewhere,  Comte  was  misled  by  his  serial  arrangement. 


230  cosmic  rniLosornY.  [n.  n. 

these  phenomena  as  manifested  in  particular  groups  of  ag- 
gregates.    The  primordial  axiom,  upon  which  our  synthetic 

study  of  the  universe  must  be  founded,  is  one  which  is  dis- 
closed by  the  analytic  study  of  the  movements  of  masses  and 
molecules.  And  thus  the  three-fold  classification  of  the 
sciences,  by  which  we  found  it  necessary  to  replace  the 
simple  linear  classification  of  Comte,  will  find  itself  practi- 
cally justified  in  the  very  first  step  which  we  take  toward 
the  organization  of  scientific  truths  into  a  system  of  Cosmic 
Philosophy. 

For  at  the  bottom  alike  of  molar  physics,  of  molecular 
physics,  and  of  chemistry,  there  lie,  in  fact,  two  universal 
propositions, — the  one  relating  to  Matter,  the  other  relating 
to  Motion.  These  are  the  familiar  propositions  that  Matter 
is  indestructible,  and  that  Motion  is  continuous.  Upon  the 
truth  of  this  pair  of  closely-related  propositions  depends  the 
validity  of  every  conclusion  to  which  chemistry  or  either 
branch  of  physics  can  attain.  If,  instead  of  dealing  with 
unalterable  quantities  and  weights,  the  chemist  and  physicist 
"had  to  deal  with  quantities  and  weights  which  were  apt, 
wholly  or  in  part,  to  be  annihilated,  there  would  be  introduced 
an  incalculable  element,  fatal  to  all  positive  conclusions." 
And  since  motions  of  masses  and  molecules  form  a  prin- 
cipal part  of  the  subject-matter  of  the  three  abstract-con- 
crete sciences,  it  is  obvious  that  "if  these  motions  might 
either  proceed  from  nothing  or  lapse  into  nothing,  there 
would  be  an  end  to  scientific  interpretation  of  them;"  no 
science  of  chemistry,  or  of  physics,  molecular  or  molar, 
would  be  possible. 

The  evidence  which  has  secured  universal  acceptance  for 
these  twin  theorems  has  been  chiefly  inductive  evidence. 
The  ancients  freely  admitted  that  matter  might  be  created 
and  destroyed ;  and  until  the  time  of  Galileo  it  was  sup- 
posed that  moving  bodies  had  a  natural  tendency  to  lose 
theii  motion  by  degrees  until  they  finally  stopped.     Falsify- 


ch.  I.]  MATTER,  MOTION,  AND  FORCE.  261 

ing  many  of  the  complex  conditions  in  the  case,  the  ancients 
verbally  maintained  the  negations  of  the  theorems  that 
matter  is  indestructible  and  motion  continuous;  although, 
if  they  had  tried  to  realize  in  thought  their  crude  propo- 
sitions, they  would  have  found  it  impossible.  But  gradually 
it  began  to  be  perceived  that  in  all  cases  where  matter  dis- 
appears— as  in  the  burning  of  wood  or  the  evaporation  of 
water — the  vanished  matter  has  only  undergone  a  mole- 
cular change  which  renders  it  temporarily  imperceptible  by 
our  unaided  senses.  Of  the  manner  in  which  quantitative 
chemistry  has  demonstrated  this  truth,  pursuing,  balance 
in  hand,  the  vanished  matter  through  all  its  protean  trans- 
formations, it  is  unnecessary  to  speak.  Similar  has  been 
the  evidence  in  the  case  of  motion.  Observing  that,  the 
more  effectually  friction,  atmospheric  resistance,  and  other 
obstacles  to  the  visible  continuance  of  motion  are  elimi- 
nated, the  longer  the  motion  continues,  the  conclusion  was 
reached,  by  the  method  of  concomitant  variations,  that  if 
all  obstacles  could  be  eliminated  the  motion  would  con- 
tinue for  ever.  Finally,  when  it  was  shown  that  the  ap- 
parent loss  of  motion  caused  by  friction  is,  in  fact,  only  a 
transformation  of  a  certain  quantity  of  molar  motion  into 
its  equivalent  quantity  of  that  species  of  molecular  motion 
known  as  heat,  it  was  admitted  on  all  sides  that  motion  is 
indestructible,  as  well  as  matter. 

But  a  brief  analysis  will  show  that  the  twin  theorems 
which  we  are  considering  have  a  deductive  warrant  equally 
valid  with  their  inductive  warrant.  Deep  as  are  the  truths 
that  matter  is  indestructible  and  motion  continuous,  there 
is  a  yet  deeper  truth  implied  by  these  two.  These  theorems 
are  not  fundamental,  but  derivative ;  and  it  therefore  be- 
comes necessary  to  ascertain  the  axiom  upon  which  they 
depend,  since  here,  if  anywhere,  must  be  found  the  pri- 
mordial truth  which  we  are  seeking. 

Since  we  cognize  any  portion  of  matter  whatever  only  as 


282  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  h. 

an  aggregate  of  coexistent  positions  which  offer  resistance 
to  our  muscular  energies ;  since  it  is  primarily  by  virtue  of 
such  resistance  that  we  distinguish  matter  from  empty  space, 
it  follows  that  our  idea  of  matter  is  built  up  of  experiences 
of  force,  and  that  the  indestructible  element  in  matter  is 
its  resisting  power,  or  the  force  which  it  exerts.  Con- 
sidering different  portions  of  matter  in  their  relations  to 
each  other,  we  are  brought  to  the  same  conclusion.  When 
we  say  that  it  is  chemistry  which  has  proved  with  the 
balance  that  no  matter  is  ever  annihilated,  we  imply  that 
the  test  of  the  presence  of  matter  is  gravitative  force,  and 
that  this  force  is  proportional  to  the  quantity  of  matter. 

The  case  of  motion  is  precisely  similar.  We  cognize 
motion  as  the  successive  occupation  of  a  series  of  positions 
by  an  aggregate  of  coexistent  positions  which  offer  resist- 
ance ;  and  the  essential  element  in  the  cognition — "  the 
necessity  which  the  moving  body  is  under  to  go  on  changing 
its  position" — has  been  proved  to  result  from  early  expe- 
riences of  force  as  manifested  in  the  movements  of  our 
muscles.  Consequently,  as  Mr.  Spencer  observes,  when  we 
find  ourselves  compelled  to  conceive  motion  as  continuous, 
we  find  that  what  "  defies  suppression  in  thought  is  really 
the  force  which  the  motion  indicates.  The  unceasing  change 
of  position,  considered  by  itself,  may  be  mentally  abolished 
without  difficulty.  We  can  readily  imagine  retardation  and 
stoppage  to  result  from  the  action  of  external  bodies.  But 
to  imagine  this,  is  not  possible  without  an  abstraction  of  the 
force  implied  by  the  motion.  We  are  obliged  to  conceive  this 
force  as  impressed  in  the  shape  of  reaction  on  the  bodies  that 
cause  the  arrest." 

Or  to  put  the  whole  case  briefly  in  another  form : — The 
fundamental  elements  of  our  conception  of  matter  are  its 
force-element  and  its  space-element,  namely,  resistance  and 
extension.  The  fundamental  elements  of  our  conception  of 
motion  are  its  force-element  and  its  space-and-time-element, 


en.  I.]  MATTER,  MOTION,  AND  FORCE.  283 

namely,  energy  and  velocity.  That  in  each  case  the  force- 
element  is  primordial,  is  shown  by  the  facts  that  what  we 
cannot  conceive  as  diminished  by  the  compression  of  matter 
is  not  its  extension  but  its  power  of  resistance ;  what  we 
cannot  conceive  as  diminished  by  the  retardation  of  motion  is 
not  its  velocity  but  its  energy. 

Therefore,  in  asserting  that  matter  is  indestructible  and 
that  motion  is  continuous,  we  assert,  by  implication,  that 
force  is  persistent.  Our  two  fundamental  theorems  are  thus 
seen  to  derive  their  validity  from  a  yet  deeper  theorem, — the 
proposition  that  the  force  manifested  in  the  knowable  uni- 
verse is  constant,  can  neither  be  increased  nor  diminished. 

To  this  result,  which  we  have  here  obtained  through  a 
general  consideration  of  the  problems  treated  by  the  abstract- 
concrete  sciences,  we  shall  be  equally  led  by  any  special  ques- 
tion of  molar  physics,  molecular  physics,  or  chemistry  which 
we  may  choose  to  analyze.  When  we  say  that  the  curve 
described  by  a  cascade  in  leaping  from  a  projecting  ledge  of 
rock  is  a  parabola  of  which  the  coordinates  express  respec- 
tively the  momentum  of  the  water  and  the  intensity  of 
gravity  at  the  verge  of  the  ledge ;  or  when  we  say  that  the 
line  followed  by  any  solid  body,  drawn  by  two  differently 
situated  forces,  is  the  diagonal  of  a  parallelogram  of  which 
the  sides  express  the  respective  intensities  of  the  forces ;  the 
validity  of  our  assertion  depends  entirely  upon  the  postulate 
that  the  forces  in  question  are  constant  in  amount.  Annihi- 
late a  single  unit  of  force,  and  our  proposition  is  hopelessly 
falsified.  Similarly  in  molecular  physics,  when  we  enunciate 
the  formula  by  means  of  which  Joseph  Fourier  founded  the 
mathematical  theory  of  heat — namely,  the  formula  that,  in 
all  cases  of  radiation  and  conduction,  the  therm ological  action 
between  two  bodies  is  proportional  to  the  difference  of  their 
temperatures — we  imply  that  action  and  reaction  are  always 
equal  between  the  systems  of  molecules  which  compose  the 
two  bodies.   And  the  equality  of  action  and  reaction  between 


B84  COSMIC  PniLOSOPnr.  [pt.  il 

systems  of  atoms  is  taken  for  granted  in  every  proposition  of 
chemistry  ;  as,  for  instance,  when  we  say  that  it  will  take 
four  molecules  of  any  monatomic  substance,  like  hydrogen, 
to  saturate  a  single  molecule  of  any  tetratomic  substance, 
like  carbon.  Now  to  assert  the  equality  of  action  and  re- 
action, whether  between  masses,  molecules,  or  atoms,  is  to 
assert  that  force  is  persistent.  "  The  allegation  really  amounts 
to  this,  that  there  cannot  be  an  isolated  force,  beginning  and 
ending  in  nothing  ;  but  that  any  force  manifested,  implies  an 
equal  antecedent  force  from  which  it  is  derived,  and  against 
which  it  is  a  reaction.  Further,  that  the  force  so  originating 
cannot  disappear  without  result ;  but  must  expend  itself  in 
some  other  manifestation  of  force,  which,  in  being  produced, 
becomes  its  reaction ;  and  so  on  continually."  x  Clearly, 
therefore,  the  assertion  that  force  is  persistent  is  the  funda- 
mental axiom  of  physics  :  it  is  the  deepest  truth  which 
analytic  science  can  disclose. 

But  now  what  warrant  have  we  for  this  fundamental 
axiom  ?  How  do  we  know  that  force  is  persistent  ?  It 
force  is  not  persistent,  if  a  single  unit  of  force  can  ever  be 
added  to  or  subtracted  from  the  sum-total  at  any  moment 
existing,  our  entire  physical  science  is,  as  we  have  seen,  a 
mere  delusion.  In  such  case,  it  is  a  delusion  to  believe  that 
action  and  reaction  are  always  equal,  that  the  strongest  bow, 
bent  by  the  strongest  muscles,  will  always  send  its  arrow  to 
the  greatest  distance  if  otherwise  unimpeded  ;  it  is  a  delusion 
to  believe  that  the  pressure  of  the  atmosphere  and  its  tem- 
perature must  always  affect  the  height  of  enclosed  columns 
of  alcohol  or  mercury,  or  that  a  single  molecule  of  nitrogen 
will  always  just  suffice  to  saturate  three  molecules  of  chlo- 
rine. And,  this  being  the  case,  our  concrete  sciences  also 
fall  to  the  ground,  and  our  confidence  in  the  stability  of 
nature  is  shown  to  be  baseless  ;  since  for  aught  we  can  say  to 
the  contrary,  the  annihilation  of  a  few  units  of  the  earth's 
1  Spencer,  First  Principles,  p.  188. 


ch.  i.]  MATTER,  MOTION,  AND  FORCE.  285 

centrifugal  force  may  cause  us  to  fall  upon  the  sun  to- 
morrow. 

But  how  do  we  know  that  all  science  is  not  a  delusion,  since 
there  still  exist  upon  the  earth's  surface  persons  who  will 
tell  us  that  it  is  so  ?  "Why  do  we  so  obstinately  refuse  to  doubt 
the  constancy  of  the  power  manifested  in  nature  ?  What  proof 
have  we  that  no  force  is  ever  created  or  destroyed  ? 

Logically  speaking,  we  have  no  proof.  An  axiom  which 
lies  below  all  frameable  propositions  cannot  be  deductively 
demonstrated.  Below  the  world  stands  the  elephant  on  the 
back  of  the  tortoise,  and  if  under  the  tortoise  wre  put  the  god 
Vishnu,  where  is  Vishnu  to  get  a  foothold  ?  Nor  can  our 
axiom  be  demonstrated  inductively,  without  reasoning  in  a 
circle.  We  cannot  adduce  the  observed  equality  of  action 
and  reaction  in  proof  of  the  persistence  of  force,  because  this 
persistence  is  taken  for  granted  in  every  observation  by 
which  the  equality  of  action  and  reaction  is  determined. 
Obviously  it  is  impossible  to  prove  the  truth  of  an  axiom  by 
any  demonstration  in  every  step  of  which  the  truth  of  the 
axiom  must  be  assumed. 

But  these  results  need  not  surprise  or  disturb  us.  As  we 
saw,  when  discussing  the  Test  of  Truth,  the  process  of 
demonstration,  which  consists  in  continually  "  merging 
derivative  truths  in  those  wider  and  wider  truths  from  which 
they  are  derived,"  must  eventually  reach  a  widest  truth, 
which  cannot  be  contained  in  or  derived  from  any  other. 
At  the  bottom  of  all  demonstration  there  must  lie  an 
indemonstrable  axiom.  And  the  truth  of  this  axiom  can 
only  be  certified  by  the  direct  application  of  the  test  of 
inconceivability.  We  are  compelled  to  believe  in  the  per- 
sistence of  force,  because  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  a 
variation  in  the  unit  by  which  force  is  measured.  It  is 
impossible  to  conceive  something  becoming  nothing  or 
nothing  becoming  something,  without  establishing  in  thought 
ail   equatioo    between   something   and    nothing;    and   thia 


286  COSMIC  rillLOSOPHY.  [pt.  11. 

cannot  be  done.  That  one  is  equal  to  zero  is  a  proposition 
of  which  the  subject  and  predicate  will  destroy  each  other 
sooner  than  be  made  to  unite. 

Thus  the  proof  of  our  fundamental  axiom  is  not  logical, 
but  psychological.  And,  as  was  formerly  shown,  this  is  the 
strongest  possible  kind  of  proof.  Inasmuch  as  our  capacity 
for  conceiving  any  proposition  is  entirely  dependent  upon 
the  manner  in  which  objective  experiences  have  registered 
themselves  upon  our  minds,  our  utter  inability  to  conceive  a 
variation  in  the  sum-total  of  force  implies  that  such  varia- 
tion is  negatived  by  the  whole  history  of  the  intercourse 
between  the  mind  and  its  environment  since  intelligence 
first  began.  The  inconceivability-test  of  Kant  and  the 
experience-test  of  Hume,  when  fused  in  this  deeper  synthesis, 
unite  in  declaring  that  the  most  irrefragable  of  truths  is  that 
which  survives  all  possible  changes  in  the  conditions  under 
which  phenomena  are  manifested  to  us.  The  persistence  of 
force,  therefore,  being  an  axiom  which  survives  under  all 
conditions  cognizable  by  our  intelligence,  being  indeed  the 
ultimate  test  by  which  we  are  compelled  to  estimate  the 
validity  of  any  proposition  whatever  concerning  any  imagin- 
able set  of  phenomena  and  under  any  conceivable  circum- 
stances, must  be  an  axiom  necessitated  by  the  very  constitu- 
tion of  the  thinking  mind,  as  perennial  intercourse  with  the 
environment  has  moulded  it. 

Mr.  Mill,  indeed,  in  his  "  System  of  Logic,"  Book  iii.  Chap, 
xxi.,  maintains  that  our  belief  in  the  necessity  and  universality 
of  causation  (which  was  above  shown 1  to  be  an  immediate 
corollary  from  the  persistence  of  force)  rests  upon  an  induc- 
tion per  enumerationem  simpliccm,  which  is,  however,  valid 
in  this  one  case,  because  it  is  coextensive  with  all  known 
orders  of  phenomena.  The  incompleteness  of  this  view  is 
shown  by  the  fact  that  the  persistence  of  force  is  necessarily 
assumed  in  every  step  of  the  vast  induction  by  which  the 
1  See  above,  part  i.  chap.  vi. 


ra.  i.]  MATTER,  MOTION,  AND  FORCE.  287 

law  of  causation  is  said  to  be  established.  Mr.  Mill  only 
emphasizes  the  incompleteness  of  his  view  when  he  repudiates 
the  inconceivability-test  as  evidence  of  the  law  in  question. 
This  point  has  been  already  so  fully  discussed  that  little 
more  need  to  be  said  about  it  here.  When,  in  a  future 
chapter,  we  come  to  deal  especially  with  the  evolution  of 
intelligence,  we  shall  see  that  Mr.  Mill's  inadequate  treat- 
ment of  this  subject  is  due  to  imperfect  mastery  of  the 
Doctrine  of  Evolution.  We  shall  see  that  the  so-called 
experience-philosophy  is  both  wider  and  deeper  than  English 
psychologists,  from  Hobbes  to  Mill,  have  imagined.  We 
shall  see  that  not  only  our  acquired  knowledge,  but  even  the 
inherited  constitution  of  our  minds,  is  the  product  of 
accumulated  and  integrated  experiences,  partly  personal  but 
chiefly  ancestral.  Upon  this  wider  ground  we  shall  find 
ourselves  able  to  dwell  in  peace  with  our  old  foes,  the 
intuitionalists,  since  it  will  be  seen  that  the  very  intuitions 
upon  which  they  rightly  insist  as  inexplicable  from  individual 
experience  are  nevertheless  explicable  from  the  organized 
experiences  of  countless  generations.  And  the  conclusion 
will  then  assert  itself,  with  redoubled  emphasis,  that  the 
axiom  of  the  persistence  of  force,  being  the  product  of  the 
entire  intercourse  between  subject  and  object,  since  the  dawn 
of  intelligence,  must  have  the  highest  warrant  which  any 
axiom  can  have. 

Let  us  for  the  present,  however,  content  ourselves  with 
reproducing  the  psychological  argument  by  which  Mr. 
Spencer  clinches  his  demonstration  of  the  necessity  which 
we  are  under  to  conceive  of  force  as  persistent.  "  The  inde- 
structibility -of  matter  and  the  continuity  of  motion,  we  saw 
to  be  really  corollaries  from  the  impossibility  of  establishing 
in  thought  a  relation  between  something  and  nothing.  What 
we  call  the  establishment  of  a  relation  in  thought,  is  the 
passage  of  the  substance  of  consciousness  from  one  form  into 
another.     To  think  of  something  becoming  nothing,  would 


2S8  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY,  [pt.  ti. 

involve  that  this  substance  of  consciousness,  having  just 
existed  under  a  given  form,  should  next  assume  no  form ;  or 
should  cease  to  be  consciousness.  And  thus  our  inability  in 
conceive  matter  and  motion  destroyed,  is  our  inability  to  sup- 
press consciousness  itself.  What  is  thus  proved  true  of  matter 
and  motion  is  d  fortiori  true  of  the  force  out  of  which  our 
conceptions  of  matter  and  motion  are  built."  Thus  we  see  , 
it  is  the  persistence  of  consciousness  itself  which  imposes  on 
us  the  necessity  of  asserting  the  persistence  of  force.  And 
accordingly  this  primordial  axiom  being  involved  in  every 
act  of  conscious  thinking,  and  being  the  basis  of  experience, 
"  must  be  the  basis  of  any  scientific  organization  of  experi- 
ences. To  this  an  ultimate  analysis  brings  us  down ;  and  on 
this  a  rational  synthesis  must  build  up." 

The  force  of  these  considerations  will  become  still  more 
strikingly  apparent  as  we  proceed  to  contemplate  the  most 
general  corollaries  of  this  fundamental  axiom  with  which  the 
science  of  physics  has  furnished  us.  The  first  of  these 
corollaries  is  the  theorem  that  the  relations  among  forces  are 
persistent.  That  is  to  say,  in  all  cases  an  aggregate  of  like 
causes  will  be  followed  by  an  aggregate  of  like  effects.  "  If 
in  any  two  cases  there  is  exact  likeness  not  only  between 
those  most  conspicuous  antecedents  which  we  distinguish  as 
the  causes,  but  also  between  those  accompanying  antecedents 
which  we  call  the  conditions,  we  cannot  affirm  that  the 
effects  will  differ,  without  affirming  either  that  some  force 
has  come  into  existence  or  that  some  force  has  ceased  to 
exist.  If  the  cooperative  forces  in  the  one  case  are  equal  to 
those  in  the  other,  each  to  each,  in  distribution  and  amount ; 
then  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  the  product  of  their  joint 
action  in  the  one  case  as  unlike  that  in  the  other,  without 
conceiving  one  or  more  of  the  forces  to  have  increased  or 
diminished  in  quantity ;  and  this  is  conceiving  that  force  is 
not  persistent."1  It  follows,  therefore,  from  the  persistence 
1  First  Principles,  p.  193. 


ch.  i.]  MATTER,  MOTION,  AND  FORCE.  289 

of  force,   that  there   is   an  invariable   order  of   succession 
between  the  totality  of  phenomena  which  exist  at  any  given 
instant  and  the  totality  of  phenomena  which  exist  at  the 
next  succeeding  instant.    No  matter  how  many  special  orders 
of  sequences  may  interlace  to  form  the  grand  web  of  sequent 
phenomena,  the  order  of  sequences,  both  separately  and  in 
the  aggregate,  must  be  invariable.  In  complicated  mechanical 
problems,  where  many  forces  are  involved,  we    proceed  to 
eliminate  one  after  another  by  means  of  the  principle  of  the 
parallelogram   of   forces,   until   at  last  we  retain  but  two 
differently  located  forces,  the  resultant  of  which  is  easily 
calculable.     So,  in  the  most  complex  cases  of  causation  to  be 
found  in  nature — as,  for  instance,  in  those  concerned  in  the 
development  of   the  moral  character  of  individuals — if  we 
possessed  the  means  of  measuring  quantitatively  the  ratio  of 
each  set  of  antecedents  to  its  set  of  consequents,  we  might 
eliminate  one  group  after  another,  until  at  length  a  necessary 
relation  of  sequence  would  be  disclosed  between  the  resultant 
group  <f  antecedents  and  consequents.  As  Mr.  Mill  observes  : 
"  For  every  event  there  exists  some  combination  of  objects 
or  events,  some  given  concurrence  of  circumstances,  positive 
and  negative,  the  occurrence  of  which  is  always  followed  by 
that  phenomenon.     We  may  not  have  found  out  what  this 
concurrence  of  circumstances  may  be ;  but  we  never  doubt 
that  there  is  such  a  one,  and  that  it  never  occurs  without 
having  the   phenomenon   in  question  as  its  effect  or  con- 
sequence."1    Our  unhesitating  assurance  that  "  there  is  a  law 
to  be  found  if  we  only  knew  how  to  find  it "  is  thus  the 
foundation    of    all    the    canons    of    inductive    logic.     The 
uniformity  of  the  laws  of  nature  is  elsewhere  called  by  Mr. 
Mill  "the  major  premise  of  all  inductions."     The   present 
analysis  further   shows   us   that  this  uniformity  of  law  is 
resolvable  into  the  persistence  of  relations  among  forces,  and  is 
therefore  an  immediate  corollary  from  the  persistence  of  force. 
1  System  of  Logic,  6  th  fdit.,  vol.  i.  p.  367. 
VOL.  I.  U 


290  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY,  [pt.  U. 

Besides  this  purely  philosophical  corollary  from  our 
fundamental  axiom,  we  have  to  note  three  other  corollaries, 
which,  as  belonging  to  the  transcendental  regions  of  physical 
science,  must  be  set  forth  and  illustrated  before  we  can 
profitably  begin  our  synthesis  of  scientific  truths.  Let  us 
briefly  consider  these  in  their  natural  order. 

The  first  of  these  corollaries  is  the  generalization  currently 
known  as  the  "Correlation  of  Forces."  Since  each  mani- 
festation of  force  must  have  been  preceded  by  some  other 
equivalent  manifestation  of  force,  it  follows  that  when  any 
specific  manifestation  appears  to  terminate,  it  does  not  really 
cease  to  exist,  but  is  only  transformed  into  some  other  specific 
manifestation.  That  we  may  better  apprehend  this  important 
truth,  let  us  clear  away  some  of  the  ambiguity  which 
surrounds  the  terms  commonly  employed  in  the  statement  of 
it.  The  phrase  "correlation  of  forces,"  which  means  the 
correlation  of  sensible  motion  with  heat,  light,  electricity, 
etc.,  implies  that  heat,  light,  and  electricity  are  forces.  This 
is  not  strictly  accurate.  Heat  and  light  are  modes  of 
nndulatory  motion,  and  electricity,  with  its  kindred  pheno- 
mena, is  to  be  similarly  interpreted.  Now  motion  is  not 
force,  but  one  of  the  manifestations  of  force ;  and  so  the 
various  modes  of  motion,  molar  and  molecular,  are  differently 
conditioned  manifestations  of  force.  The  force  which  pro- 
duces or  resists  motion  is  known  by  us  only  under  the 
twofold  form  of  attraction  and  repulsion,  which  may  be 
either  polar  or  universal.  Polar  attraction  or  repulsion  is 
that  which  acts  with  different  power  in  different  directions. 
An  example  of  polar  attraction  is  to  be  found  in  every  case 
of  crystallization,  where  molecules  are  grouped  into  a  solid 
figure  bounded  by  plane  surfaces  ;  and  a  familiar  example  of 
polar  repulsion  is  that  which  is  exhibited  when  the  positive 
poles  of  any  two  magnets  are  brought  into  mutual  proxi- 
mity.    Universal   attraction    or   repulsion    is    that  which 


en.  1.]  MATTER,  MOTION,  AND  FOLCE.  291 

acts  with  equal  power  in  all  directions.  In  universal 
attraction  we  are  accustomed  to  distinguish  three  modes, 
respectively  called  gravity,  cohesion,  and  chemism  or 
chemical  affinity. 

The  essential  difference  between  these  modes  of  primary 
force  and  the  various  modes  of  motion,  is  illustrated  by  the 
familiar  facts  that  gravity  causes  molar  motion  while  molar 
motion  does  not  cause  gravity  ;  and  that  chemism  gives  rise 
to  the  species  of  molecular  motion  called  heat,  while  heat 
cannot  give  rise  to  chemism,  though  it  may  result  in  a  mole- 
cular rearrangement  which  will  allow  chemism  to  manifest 
itself.  For  example  gravity  causes  a  spent  rocket  to  iall 
to  the  ground  ;  but  the  upward  motion  of  the  rocket  does  not 
cause  gravity,  although  it  results  in  a  position  of  the  rocket 
which  enables  gravity  to  reveal  itself  by  causing  downward 
motion.  So  when  nitrous  oxide  is  decomposed  into  nitrogen 
and  oxygen,  a  considerable  amount  of  heat  is  evolved ;  but 
when  all  this  thermal  undulation  is  restored  under  appropriate 
conditions,  and  the  compound  is  again  formed,  it  is  not  that 
the  thermal  undulation  gives  rise  to  the  chemism  which 
draws  the  atoms  of  nitrogen  and  oxygen  together ;  it  is  only 
that  the  thermal  undulation  results  in  such  a  redistribution 
of  the  atoms  that  their  progress  toward  each  other  is  un- 
impeded, and  thus  the  latent  force  of  chemism  is  revealed. 

Now  the  law  of  the  correlation  of  forces,  which  perhaps 
ought  rather  to  be  called  the  law  of  the  transformation  of 
motion,  is  simply  the  obverse  of  that  corollary  from  the  per- 
sistence of  force,  which  affirms  that  whatever  energy  has 
been  expended  in  doing  work  must  reappear  as  energy.  The 
energy  of  molar  motion  which  disappears  when  an  arrow 
sticks  in  its  target  is  really  transformed  into  the  energy  of 
molecular  motion  which  is  recognized  partly  as  heat  and 
partly  as  electricity.  That  the  different  modes  of  motion 
are  transformable  into  each  other,  is  now  one  of  the  common- 
places of  physical  science,  and  needs  but  little  illustration 

u  2 


292  COSMIC  J11IL0S0PHY.  [ft.  ii. 

here.  What  is  called  the  arrest  of  motion  by  friction  is  now 
known  to  be  the  change  of  molar  motion  into  heat,  when  the 
rubbing  substances  are  alike  in  constitution, — into  heat  and 
electricity,  when  they  are  unlike.  In  violent  collisions,  as 
in  the  chipping  of  stones  with  a  mason's  chisel,  the  arrested 
molar  motion  is  partly  changed  into  light.  And  when  an 
iron  bar  is  suspended  in  the  magnetic  meridian  and  violently 
struck  or  continually  jarred,  a  portion  of  the  arrested  motion 
reveals  itself  as  magnetism. 

The  transformation  of  heat  into  molar  motion  may  be  seen 
in  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  mercury  in  the  thermometer,  or 
in  the  driving  of  a  piston  by  the  molecular  dilatation  of 
aqueous  vapour.  When  lime  is  introduced  into  an  atmo- 
sphere of  burning  hydrogen,  we  see  the  conversion  of  heat 
into  light.  And  when  the  heated  ends  of  zinc  and  copper 
wires  are  brought  together,  we  see  heat  generating  electric 
currents.  Conversely,  electricity  conducted  down  a  light- 
ning-rod is  partly  converted  into  heat;  and  in  the  bright 
flashes  which  are  followed  by  claps  of  thunder,  we  witness 
electric  energy  partly  consumed  in  originating  light. 

The  phenomenon  commonly  called  light  is  but  a  species 
of  a  mode  of  solar  energy  which  may  be  called  radiance  or 
actinism,  and  which,  according  to  the  manner  in  which  it 
affects  our  senses,  is  known  as  radiant  heat,  as  light,  or  as 
the  energy  which  works  changes  in  the  daguerreotype-plate 
and  in  the  leaves  of  plants.  The  difference  between  the 
higher  rays  of  the  solar  spectrum,  which  manifest  them- 
selves chiefly  in  causing  chemical  changes,  and  the  lower 
rays,  which  are  cognized  as  violet  light,  is  generically  the 
same  as  the  difference  between  these  and  the  still  lower 
rays  which  are  cognized  as  indigo,  blue,  green,  yellow, 
orange,  or  red  light;  and  the  same  is  true  if  we  descend 
to  those  still  lower  rays  which  are  recognized  only  by  their 
thermal  effects.  If  we  call  the  energy  manifested  in  the 
solar  beam  by  the  general  name  of  actinism,  we  may  say 


m.  i.]  MATTER,  MOTION,  AND  FORCE.  293 

that  actinism  is  transformable  into  all  the  other  modes  of 
motion.  In  Mr.  Grove's  celebrated  experiment,  where  a 
daguerreotype-plate  is  ingeniously  connected  with  a  galvano- 
meter, a  gridiron  of  silver  wire,  and  a  heat-registering  helix, 
and  where  actinism  is  the  initial  mode  of  motion,  there  are 
obtained  "  chemical  action  on  the  plate,  electricity  in  the 
wires,  magnetism  in  the  coil,  heat  in  the  helix,  and  [molar] 
motion  in  the  needles." 

In  all  cases  where  the  disappearance  of  any  given  mode 
of  motion  is  followed  by  the  appearance  of  some  other  mode, 
the  proof  that  there  has  been  an  actual  transformation  of  the 
former  mode  into  the  latter  is  of  two  kinds.  Deductive 
proof  is  furnished  by  the  fact  that  the  only  alternative  sup- 
position is  unthinkable, — namely,  the  supposition  that  the 
one  kind  of  motion  has  been  annihilated,  while  the  other 
kind  has  been  created  for  the  occasion.  Inductive  proof  is 
furnished  by  the  fact  that  wherever  it  is  possible  to  measure 
both  the  amount  of  motion  that  disappears  and  the  amount 
that  appears  in  its  place,  the  two  quantities  are  always  found 
to  be  equal.  Thus  the  molar  motion  implied  in  the  fall 
of  772  pounds  of  matter  through  one  foot  of  space,  will 
always  raise  the  temperature  of  a  pound  of  water  just  one 
degree  of  Fahrenheit.  And  similar  quantitative  correlations 
have  been  established  among  other  modes  of  motion. 

The  second  corollary  from  the  persistence  of  force  asserts 
that  the  direction  of  motion  in  any  case  is  always  the 
resultant  between  the  lines  representing  respectively  the 
greatest  traction  and  the  least  resistance  exerted  by  the 
forces  upon  which  the  motion  depends.  In  any  plexus  of 
forces  whatever,  the  resultant  of  all  the  tractive  forces  in- 
volved will  be  the  line  of  greatest  traction ;  the  resultant  of 
all  the  resisting  forces  will  be  the  line  of  least  resistance  ; 
and  the  direction  of  motion  in  the  resultant  of  this  final  pair 
of  resultants  follows  directly  from  the  persistence  of  force. 


294  COSMIC  rillLOSOFHY.  [pt.  ii. 

For  the  last  resultant  represents  the  direction  and  amount  of 
a  surplus  force  which  remains  after  all  the  other  forces  have 
been  equilibrated;  and  to  assert  that  this  force  will  not  be 
manifested  in  motion  along  this  line,  is  to  assert  that  force 
may  be  expended  without  elfect.  Still  more  obvious  does 
this  become,  when  we  remember  that  "  our  only  evidence  of 
excess  of  force  is  the  movement  it  produces."  Since  we 
know  force  not  in  itself,  but  only  as  revealed  to  conscious- 
ness in  matter  and  motion,  it  follows  that  motion  in  any 
direction  is  the  only  proof  we  have  that  there  is  a  surplus  of 
unantagonized  force  acting  in  that  direction.  So  that  our 
theorem  becomes  almost  an  identical  proposition.  But  if 
we  ask  why  the  greater  of  two  opposing  forces  is  that  which 
causes  motion  in  its  own  direction,  there  can  be  no  answei 
save  the  one  already  given.  There  is  no  warrant  save  the, 
consciousness  that  the  unneutralized  surplus  of  force  cannot 
cease  to  act. 

The  simplest  case  contemplated  by  this  corollary  is  that 
of  a  moving  body  left  to  itself.  There  being  here  no  force 
involved,  save  the  body's  own  momentum,  the  direction  of 
motion  is  an  infinite  straight  line.  But  since  the  realization 
of  such  a  case  would  involve  the  annihilation  of  all  matter 
save  the  body  in  question,  it  is  obvious  that  no  such  simple 
case  can  ever  have  existed  within  the  limits  of  the  knowable 
universe.  The  simplest  case  of  motion  which  can  come 
within  our  cognizance  is  really  complex  to  a  degree  which 
baffles  computation.  Mr.  Spencer  somewhere  remarks  that 
when  a  man  appears  to  be  walking  westward,  he  is  really 
being  carried  eastward  by  the  earth's  rotation  at  the  rate  of 
1,000  miles  an  hour.  Besides  this,  the  earth's  orbital  motion 
is  carrying  him  westward  at  the  differential  rate  of  67,000 
miles  an  hour.  Meanwhile  the  motion  of  the  solar  system 
toward  the  constellation  Hercules  is  all  the  time  bearing  him 
in  a  direction  neither  east  nor  west.  While,  if  we  could 
comprehend  in  a  single  view  the  dynamic  relations  of  the 


ra.  i.]  MATTER,  MOTION,  AND  FOECE.  295 

entire  sidereal  universe,  we  should  find  that  even  the 
enormous  factors  already  taken  into  the  account  would  help 
us  but  little  toward  determining  the  resultant  direction 
in  which  the  man  is  moving.  The  comparative  ease  with 
which  astronomy  ascertains  the  direction  of  the  motions 
with  which  it  deals,  is  due  to  our  ability  to  isolate  our- 
selves theoretically  from  an  indefinitely  extended  universe 
of  environing  bodies ;  and  this  is  due  to  the  principle,  esta- 
blished by  Galileo,  that  the  relative  motions  of  the  parts  of 
an  aggregate  are  not  affected  by  the  motion  of  the  whole. 
If  we  could  include  in  the  problem  the  entire  knowable 
universe,  we  should  doubtless  find  the  real  motions  oi  a 
planet  as  impossible  to  calculate  mathematically  as  are  now 
the  motions  of  a  corpuscle  of  nerve-substance  when  thrown 
out  of  equilibrium  by  an  act  of  thinking. 

Nevertheless,  because  of  this  principle  that  the  relative 
motions  of  parts  may  be  calculated  independently  of  the 
motion  of  the  whole,  we  are  enabled  legitimately  to  restrict 
our  views,  so  that  motion  along  the  resultant  of  two  or  three 
forces  may  be  determined  and  predicted  with  a  near  ap- 
proach to  accuracy.  Witness  the  ease  with  which  we  can 
calculate  the  orbit  of  a  comet.  But  when  the  forces  become 
more  numerous,  it  becomes  impossible  to  determine  their 
resultant.  Witness  the  excessive  difficulty  of  predicting  the 
direction  of  currents  in  the  atmosphere.  The  movements  of 
organisms  still  more  hopelessly  baffle  our  powers  of  calcula- 
tion. It  is  hardly  probable  that  science  will  ever  obtain 
equations  for  the  motions  of  a  lion  in  securing  his  prey ;  yet 
that  would  be  a  very  shallow  philosophy  which  should  seek 
to  assure  us  that  each  one  of  those  motions  does  not  take 
place  along  the  resultant  of  all  the  forces  involved.  To  an 
intelligence  sufficiently  vast,  the  motions  of  the  earth  in 
space  would  doubtless  seem  as  complicated  as  those  of  the 
lion  seem  to  us.  But  no  amount  of  complexity  can  alter 
the  fundamental  principle  that  the  direction  of  motion  must 


296  cosmic  ruiLusorn  r.  [PT.  n. 

"be  the  resultant  between  the  lines  of  greatest  traction  and  of 
least  resistance. 

In  conclusion  let  us  observe  that  in  many  cases  the  total 
amount  of  traction  is  so  small  compared  to  the  total  amount 
of  resistance,  that  for  practical  purposes  it  may  be  neglected  ; 
and  vice  versd.  Thus,  when  a  meteor  falls  upon  the  earth, 
we  may  neglect  the  resistance  of  the  atmosphere,  and  say 
that  the  meteor  follows  the  line  of  greatest  traction ;  and 
when  a  volcano  throws  up  a  column  of  lava,  we  may  neglect 
the  effects  of  gravity,  and  say  that  for  the  time  being  the  lava 
follows  the  line  of  least  resistance.  We  shall  thus,  without 
any  considerable  inaccuracy,  avoid  cumbrous  verbiage;  and 
in  the  case  of  molecular  motions  propagated  through  masses 
of  matter,  with  which  our  exposition  is  chiefly  concerned,  it 
is  sufficiently  accurate  to  say  that  motion  follows  the  line  of 
least  resistance. 


CHAPTER   H. 

EHYTHM. 

The  third  corollary  from  the  persistence  of  force  may  best 
be  introduced  by  a  reconsideration  of  the  simplest  case  of 
motion  contemplated  by  the  preceding  corollary.  The  reali- 
zation of  Galileo's  first  law  of  motion — the  law  that  a 
moving  body  must  for  ever  continue  in  a  straight  line  with 
uniform  velocity — obviously  postulates  the  non-existence  of 
any  other  matter  than  that  contained  in  the  body  in  ques- 
tion. If  there  were  but  one  body  in  the  universe,  that  body, 
when  once  set  in  motion,  would  never  alter  its  direction,  or 
undergo  any  increase  or  diminution  of  velocity.  The  intro- 
duction of  a  second  body,  attracting  the  first  and  attracted 
by  it,  alters  the  result  in  a  way  which  now  demands  brief 
consideration.  If  the  motion  with  which  the  two  bodies 
start  is  such  as  would  carry  them  along  a  straight  line 
toward  each  other,  they  must  obviously  rush  together,  and 
the  case  is  thus  again  reduced  to  that  of  a  single  moving 
body.  But  this  case  is  too  simple  to  have  been  ever  actually 
realized.  What  we  have  to  deal  with  is  the  case  of  two 
bodies  which  are  moving  in  independent  directions.  For 
the  sake  of  simplicity,  let  us  suppose  that  the  second  body, 
B,  is  so  much  heavier  than  the  first  body,  A,  that  the 
commcn  centre  of  gravity  of  the  two  lies  within  B's  peri- 


293  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  n. 

phery.     What  now  will  be  the  result  ?     The  direction  of  a's 
motion,   instead   of  remaining  unaltered,   will   be   at   each 
instant  deflected  from  a  straight  line  in  such  a  way  that  A 
will  continually  approach  nearer  and  nearer  to  a  point  some- 
where in  advance  of  b,  upon  the  line  in  which  B  is  moving : 
instead  of  a  straight  line  we  shall  have  a  curve  of  which  the 
coordinates  will  bear  to  each  other  a  ratio  equal  to  the  ratio 
between  a's  momentum  and  b's  tractive  force.    The  velocity  of 
A  will  also  cease  to  be  uniform.     For  as  soon  as  A  has  passed 
on  beyond  B,  a  portion  of  its  momentum  will  be  at  each  in- 
stant consumed  in  neutralizing  b's  tractive  force,  so  that  the 
velocity  due  to  the  remaining  momentum,  will  be  at  each 
instant  diminished.      Now,  unless  a's  momentum  be  infinite, 
this  process  cannot  go  on  for  ever.     By  the  time  that  a  has 
arrived   at  the  point   directly   in   advance   of  B,  so   much 
momentum  will    have    been  lost  that    b's   attraction   will 
begin  to  overbalance  it,  and  the  curve  in  which  A  is  moving 
will  begin  to  turn  back  toward  B.      But  now  b's  tractive 
force  begins  to  augment  at  each  instant  the  velocity  of  a, 
until,  by  the  time  that  A  has  reached  a  position  alongside 
of  B,  its  momentum  is  considerably  in  excess  of  b's  attrac- 
tion, and  it  is  consequently  carried  on  toward  a  point  in  the 
rear  of  B.      The  same  rhythmical  decrease  and  increase  in 
A's  momentum  continues  until  the  curve  is  completed,  and 
A  has  reached  the  position  from  which  it  started.     Thus  our 
attracted  body,  instead  of  moving  in  a  straight  line,  moves 
in  a  closed  curve  of  which  one  of  the  foci  must  coincide  in 
position  with  the  common  centre  of  gravity  of  the  attracted 
and   attracting  bodies.      The  result   which   we  have   here 
obtained  by  supposing  A  to  be  so  much  smaller  than  B  that 
its  reciprocal  influence  upon  b's  motion  might  be  left  un- 
considered, is  not  altered  if  we  suppose  a  and  B  to  be  equal 
in  size.     In  this  case  the  common  centre  of  gravity  lies  mid- 
way between  the  two  bodies,  and  is  the  common  focus  of  the 
two  closed  curves  respectively  described  by  them. 


en.  11.]  RHYTHM.  299 

The  illustration  is  a  very  trite  one,  being  approximately 
realized  in  every  case  of  planetary  revolution,  but  the  space 
here  given  to  it  is  justified  by  the  supreme  importance  of  the 
principle  now  to  be  generalized  from  it.  To  Galileo's  first 
law  of  motion  there  is  now  to  be  added  a  supplemental  law. 
As  a  single  moving  body,  in  an  otherwise  empty  universe, 
would  move  for  ever  with  unvarying  velocity  in  an  unvary- 
ing direction;  so,  on  the  other  hand,  two  or  more  bodies, 
moving  in  independent  directions  and  exerting  attractive 
forces  upon  each  other,  must  for  ever  move  in  directions 
which  rhythmically  vary,  and  with  velocities  which  are 
rhythmically  augmented  and  diminished.  Thus  the  rhythm 
of  motion  is  a  corollary  from  the  persistence  of  force.  Our 
only  alternatives  are  rhythm,  or  invariable  velocity  in  an 
invariable  direction.  The  latter  alternative  being  excluded 
by  the  fact  that  in  the  known  universe  innumerable  bodies 
coexist,  it  follows  that  we  must  adopt  the  former,  and  admit 
that  all  motion  is  and  must  be  rhythmical. 

The  direct  dependence  of  this  conclusion  upon  the  axiom 
of  the  persistence  of  force  is  still  further  illustrated  by  the 
case  of  the  pendulum.  Let  us  imagine,  for  the  sake  of 
definiteness,  a  heavy  bob  at  the  end  of  a  rigid  wire.  When 
the  bob  is  raised  to  leftward  of  the  perpendicular,  and  then 
left  to  the  action  of  gravity,  it  at  once  begins  to  descend. 
But  while  it  is  descending,  gravity  is  at  each  instant  adding 
to  its  momentum,  so  that,  when  it  reaches  the  perpendicular, 
it  cannot  stop,  but  is  carried  along  to  rightward  until 
all  the  added  momentum  is  lost  again  ;  that  is,  until  it  has 
ascended  to  a  height  equal  to  that  from  which  it  began  to 
descend.  Being  now  left  to  the  unhindered  action  of  gravity, 
the  same  series  of  motions  will  occur  in  the  reverse  direction, 
and  so  on  for  ever.  Strictly  speaking,  no  such  case  can  be 
realized ;  since  all  the  lost  momentum  is  not  expended  in 
neutralizing  gravity,  but  part  of  it  is  employed  in  communi- 
cating motion  to  the  environing  atmosphere,  and  part  of  it  is 


300  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [it.  11. 

transformed  into  heat.  But  if  all  the  molar  momentum  thus 
dissipated  could  be  retained,  the  rhythmic  motion  of  the 
pendulum  would  continue  for  ever.  But  why  ?  Simply 
because  the  momentum  acquired  during  the  descending 
rhythm  cannot  cease  to  manifest  itself,  save  as  it  is  neu- 
tralized during  the  ascending  rhythm.  And  to  adduce  this 
reason  is  to  appeal  directly  to  the  persistence  of  force. 

The  case  of  undulatory  motions  propagated  among  the 
molecules  of  matter,  is  precisely  similar.  The  passage  of 
an  undulation  implies  at  each  instant  a  momentary  local 
rarefaction,  followed  by  a  momentary  local  condensation. 
At  a  given  instant  certain  molecules  are  removed  further 
from  each  other,  while  at  the  next  succeeding  instant  they 
approach  each  other,  and  the  molecules  immediately  adjacent 
are  removed  from  each  other.  Why  is  rarefaction  thus  suc- 
ceeded by  condensation  ?  What  is  it  that  determines  the 
rebound  of  the  disturbed  molecule  towards  its  original  posi- 
tion ?  Obviously  the  progress  of  a  pair  of  molecules  toward 
positions  farther  and  farther  from  each  other  is  opposed  by 
the  inertia  of  adjacent  molecules,  which  these  push  before 
them  as  they  advance.  The  local  rarefaction  is  achieved 
only  at  the  expense  of  an  adjacent  condensation.  This 
condensation  of  the  adjacent  molecules  increases  their  elas- 
ticity until  it  begins  to  overbalance  the  momentum  of  the 
separating  pair  of  molecules,  and  then  these  molecules  are 
driven  back  toward  each  other.  And  so  on,  without  inter- 
mission. Now  the  recoil  of  the  advancing  molecule  is 
necessitated  by  the  fact  that  the  elasticity  which  it  generates 
in  the  resisting  molecule  cannot  expend  itself  without  pro- 
ducing motion.  And  to  say  this  is  to  recur  again  to  our 
fundamental  axiom. 

Thus  in  all  cases,  whether  molar  or  molecular,  the  rhythm 
of  motion  is  necessitated  by  the  fact  that  in  a  multiform 
universe  no  portion  of  matter  can  move  uninfluenced  by 
some  other   portion.     The  illustrations  just  given  do  but 


en.  ii.]  BUYTHM.  301 

typify  that  which  is  for  ever  going  on  throughout  the  length 
and  breadth  of  the  Cosmos.  Periodicity,  rise  and  fall,  re- 
currence of  maxima  and  minima, — this  is  the  law  of  all 
motions  whatever,  whether  exemplified  by  the  star  rushing 
through  space,  by  the  leaf  that  quivers  in  the  breeze,  by 
the  stream  of  blood  that  courses  through  the  arteries,  or 
by  the  atom  of  oxygen  that  oscillates  in  harmony  with  its 
companion-atom3  of  hydrogen  in  the  rain-drop.  Always, 
as  in  our  initial  illustration,  the  forces  which  are  carrying 
a  given  portion  of  matter  in  a  given  direction  become  gradu- 
ally altered  in  their  distribution,  and  in  their  amounts,  until 
the  direction  of  the  motion  becomes  practically  reversed; 
and  whether  the  given  portion  of  matter  be  a  planet  or  a 
molecule,  the  dynamic  principle  remains  the  same.  Just  as 
Newton's  law  of  inverse  squares  applies  to  molecules  as  well 
as  to  masses,  so  the  law  of  rhythm  applies  in  both  cases. 
Thus  what  we  may  call  the  elementary  motions  going 
on  throughout  the  world  of  phenomena — the  elementary 
motions  by  the  various  combinations  of  which  all  percep- 
tible motions  are  made  up — are  all  rhythmical  or  oscillatory. 
The  phenomena  which  are  presented  to  our  consciousness 
as  light,  heat,  electricity,  and  magnetism,  are  the  products 
of  a  perpetual  trembling,  or  swaying  to  and  fro  of  the 
invisible  atoms  of  which  visible  bodies  are  composed. 
When  we  contemplate  the  heavens  on  a  clear  autumn 
evening,  and  marvel  at  the  beauty  of  Sirius,  that  beauty  is 
conveyed  to  our  senses  through  the  medium  of  atomic  shivers, 
kept  up  during  the  past  twenty-two  years,  at  the  average 
rate  of  six  hundred  millions  of  millions  per  second.  The 
difference  between  the  tropical  heat  of  India  and  the  cold 
of  the  Arctic  regions  is  simply  the  measure  of  untold  millions 
of  tiny  differences  in  the  rates  of  oscillation  of  countless 
atoms  of  atmospheric  gases,  determined  in  turn  by  innumer- 
able o:  dilatory  movements  propagated  from  the  sun  to  the 
earth.     The  difference  between  the  faradaic  current  which 


S02  COSMIO  PIIILOSOPII V.  [it.  il 

cures  some  deep-seated  abnormity  of  nutrition,  and  the 
lightning-flash  which  paralyzes  and  kills,  is  at  bottom  a 
difference  in  amounts  and  rates  of  atomic  vibration.  And 
according  to  the  latest  speculations  in  chemical  philosophy, 
it  is  because  of  the  synchronousness  or  rhythmical  harmony 
of  the  oscillatory  movements  described  by  their  atoms,  that 
elementary  substances  are  enabled  to  combine  in  myriadfold 
ways,  thus  making  up  the  wondrous  variety  of  forms,  organic 
and  inorganic,  which  the  earth's  surface  presents  for  our 
contemplation. 

Since  the  ultimate  particles  of  which  science  regards  the 
universe  as  composed  are  thus  perpetually  swaying  to  and 
fro,  in  accordance  with  a  law  of  motion  that  admits  of  no 
exception,  we  may  expect  to  find  that  the  various  aggregates 
of  these  particles  which  constitute  perceptible  bodies  will 
exhibit  a  like  rhythm,  whether  comparatively  simple  or 
endlessly  compounded,  in  their  motions.  The  law  which 
governs  the  action  of  the  parts  must  govern  also  the  action 
of  the  whole,  no  matter  how  intricately  the  whole  may  be 
compounded.  Whether  it  be  in  the  case  of  organic  or  in- 
organic bodies,  of  complex  or  of  simple  aggregates,  we  must 
expect  to  come  upon  systems  of  rhythmical  movements, 
which  will  be  comparatively  simple  or  endlessly  complex, 
according  to  the  structural  complication  of  the  bodies  in 
question.  Let  us  exhibit  a  few  instances  of  this  rhythmical 
action,  before  we  pass  to  the  stupendous  consequences  of  the 
theorem  which  I  have  been  endeavouring  to  elucidate.  Some 
of  the  chief  instances  to  be  gathered  from  astronomic  phe- 
nomena have  been  so  admirably  presented  by  Mr.  Spencer, 
that  I  cannot  do  better  than  to  quote  in  full  his  concise 
statement. 

Along  with  the  planetary  revolutions  which  furnish  the 
illustration  with  which  I  began  this  chapter,  "the  solar 
system  presents  us  with  various  rhythms  of  a  less  manifest 
and  more  complex  kind.     In  each  planet  and  satellite  there 


en.  ii.]  RHYTHM.  303 

is  the  revolution  of  the  nodes — a  slow  change  in  the  position 
of  the  orbit-plane,  which  after  completing  itself  commences 
afresh.  There  is  the  gradual  alteration  in  the  length  of  the 
axis  major  of  the  orbit ;  and  also  of  its  eccentricity ;  both  of 
which  are  rhythmical  alike  in  the  sense  that  they  alternate 
between  maxima  and  minima,  and  in  the  sense  that  the 
progress  from  one  extreme  to  the  other  is  not  uniform,  but 
is  made  with  fluctuating  velocity.  Then,  too,  there  is  the 
revolution  of  the  line  of  apsides,  which  in  course  of  time 
moves  round  the  heavens — not  regularly,  but  through  com- 
plex oscillations.  And  further  we  have  variations  in  the 
directions  of  the  planetary  axes — that  known  as  nutation, 
and  that  larger  gyration  which,  in  the  case  of  the  earth, 
causes  the  precession  of  the  equinoxes. 

"  These  rhythms,  already  more  or  less  compound,  are 
compounded  with  each  other.  Such  an  instance  as  the  secular 
acceleration  and  retardation  of  the  moon,  consequent  on  the 
varying  eccentricity  of  the  earth's  orbit,  is  one  of  the 
simplest.  Another,  having  more  important  consequences, 
results  from  the  changing  direction  of  the  axes  of  rotation  in 
planets  whose  orbits  are  decidedly  eccentric.  Every  planet, 
during  a  certain  long  period,  presents  more  of  its  northern 
than  of  its  southern  hemisphere  to  the  sun  at  the  time  of  its 
nearest  approach  to  him  ;  and  then  again,  during  a  like 
period,  presents  more  of  its  southern  hemisphere  than  of  its 
northern — a  recurring  coincidence  which,  though  causing  in 
some  planets  no  sensible  alterations  of  climate,  involves  in 
the  case  of  the  earth  an  epoch  of  21,000  years,  during  which 
each  hemisphere  goes  through  a  cycle  of  temperate  seasons, 
and  seasons  that  are  extreme  in  their  heat  and  cold.  Nor  is 
this  all.  There  is  even  a  variation  of  this  variation.  Tor 
the  summers  and  winters  of  the  whole  earth  become  more  or 
less  strongly  contrasted,  as  the  eccentricity  of  its  orbit 
increases  and  decreases.  Hence  during  increase  of  the 
eccentricity,  the   epochs   of  moderately  contrasted   seasons 


304  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  11. 

and  epochs  of  strongly  contrasted  seasons,  through  which 
alternately  each  hemisphere  passes,  must  grow  more  and 
more  different  in  the  degrees  of  their  contrast :  and  con- 
trariwise during  decrease  of  the  eccentricity.  So  that  in  the 
quantity  of  light  and  heat  which  any  portion  of  the  earth 
receives  from  the  sun,  there  goes  on  a  quadruple  rhythm  : 
that  of  day  and  night ;  that  of  summer  and  winter ;  that 
due  to  the  changing  position  of  the  axis  at  perihelion  and 
aphelion,  taking  21,000  years  to  complete;  and  that  involved 
by  the  variation  of  the  orbit's  eccentricity,  gone  through  in 
millions  of  years."  * 

The  astronomic  rhythms  here  enumerated  are  peculiarly 
interesting  from  the  fact  that,  owing  to  their  comparatively 
simple  character,  they  are  susceptible  of  mathematical  treat- 
ment, so  that  their  direct  dependence  on  the  principle  of  the 
persistence  of  force  can  be  quantitatively  demonstrated.  In 
ascending  to  the  order  of  phenomena  next  above  them  in 
point  of  complexity — the  geologic  phenomena  occurring  on 
the  earth's  surface — we  enter  a  region  where  such  quantita- 
tive proof,  save  of  a  very  crude  sort,  cannot  be  obtained. 
The  great  complexity  of  geologic  as  contrasted  with  astro- 
nomic rhythms  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  whereas  on  the 
one  hand,  we  can  readily  calculate  the  variations  of  eccentri- 
city in  the  earth's  orbit  which  have  taken  place  during 
millions  of  years  gone  by  or  which  are  sure  to  take  place 
during  millions  of  years  to  come,  on  the  other  hand  we  are 
not  yet  able  to  assign  an  approximate  date  for  the  most 
recent  epoch  at  which  our  northern  hemisphere  was  covered 
with  glaciers.  According  to  Mr.  Wallace  this  epoch  may 
have  occurred  no  more  than  seventy  thousand  years  ago, 
while  others  would  assign  to  it  an  antiquity  of  at  least  two 
hundred  thousand  years,  and  there  are  yet  others  who  urge 
strong  arguments  in  behalf  of  the  opinion  that  a  million  of 
years  is  barely  enough  to  have  produced  the  changes  which 
1  First  Principles,  pp.  256,  257. 


en.  n.]  BHYTIIM.  305 

have  taken  place  since  that  event.  Nevertheless,  though  we 
cannot  determine  the  amounts  and  durations  of  the  move- 
ments which  have  occurred  during  the  geologic  history  of 
the  earth,  we  can  still  securely  assert  that  these  movements 
have  been  rhythmical  iD  character.  Though  the  verdict  is 
rendered  with  less  precision,  its  purport  is  still  the  same. 
In  the  alternating  periods  of  elevation  and  depression  which 
have  succeeded  each  other  at  different  places  ever  since 
the  earth's  crust  began  to  be  solidified,  are  exemplified  the 
chief  geologic  rhythms,  due  to  the  slow  deflection  of  the 
lines  of  least  resistance  along  which  the  pressure  of  the 
earth's  nucleus  reveals  itself  by  causing  upward  motion. 
But  these  immensely  long  rhythms  are  complicated  by  minor 
rhythmical  changes  of  surface,  due  to  continual  shifting  of 
river-beds  and  consequent  variations  in  the  areas  of  denu- 
dation and  in  the  deposit  of  sedimentary  strata.  And  these 
rhythms  are  still  further  complicated  by  rhythmic  variations 
in  the  operation  of  climatic  agencies,  entailing  periodic 
changes  in  the  amount  and  distribution  of  rainfall,  in  the 
size  and  movements  of  icebergs  and  glaciers,  and  in  the 
activity  of  frost.  On  the  sea-shore  we  may  witness  the 
compound  rhythm  of  the  tides,  "in  which  the  daily  rise  and 
fall  undergo  a  fortnightly  increase  and  decrease,  due  to  the 
alternating  coincidence  and  antagonism  of  the  solar  and 
lunar  attractions";  a  source  from  which  arise  the  most 
minute  geologic  rhythms,  as  those  which  arise  from  the 
secular  cooling  of  the  earth,  and  from  its  ever  varying 
position  in  space,  are  the  most  vast. 

But  the  subject  of  complex  rhythms  is  still  better  illus- 
trated, in  biology.  The  commonest  physiological  act,  such  as 
eating,  is  dependent  upon  a  periodically  occurring  sensation 
of  hunger,  due  to  a  periodic  excess  of  waste  over  repair. 
The  taking  of  nutriment  is  accomplished,  in  all  animals,  by 
a  series  of  rhythmical  motions, — either  the  motions  of  cilia, 
or  of  sphincter  muscles,  or  of  jaws,  or  indeed,  of  all  three  at 

VOL.  I.  X 


306  COSMIC  rillLOSOMY.  [ft.  ti. 

once.  Mr.  Spencer  adds  that  "the  swallowing  of  food  is 
effected  by  a  wave  of  constriction  passing  along  the  oeso- 
phagus ;  its  digestion  is  accompanied  by  a  muscular  action 
of  the  stomach  that  is  also  undulatory;  and  the  peristaltic 
motion  of  the  intestines  is  of  like  nature.  The  blood 
obtained  from  this  food  is  propelled  not  in  a  uniform  current 
but  in  pulses ;  and  it  is  aerated  by  lungs  that  alternately 
contract  and  expand."  To  this  we  may  add  that  assimilation 
is  a  continuous  process  of  rhythmic  interchange  between  the 
molecular  constituents  of  the  various  tissues  and  of  the 
blood  by  which  they  are  bathed;  that  muscular  action  is  the 
result  of  a  series  of  oscillatory  movements;  and  that  nervous 
action  depends  upon  a  quickly  alternating  rise  and  fall  in 
the  chemical  instability  of  the  molecules  which  compose  the 
nerve-centres.  All  these  minor  rhythms  are  as  ripples  upon 
the  surface  of  the  longer  rhythm  constituted  by  sleep  and 
wakefulness.  Eecent  researches  have  shown  that  sleep  itself 
furnishes  a  beautiful  illustration  of  the  manner  in  which 
rhythm  is  necessitated  by  the  continual  redistribution  of 
forces  in  the  organism.  According  to  the  most  recent  view, 
sleep  is  caused  by  a  diminution  in  the  capacity  of  the 
cerebral  arteries,  which  lessens  the  circulation  of  blood 
through  the  brain.  It  is  the  sympathetic  nerve  which  effects 
this  contraction  of  the  arteries.  During  the  day  the  activity 
of  the  cerebrum  itself  supplies  the  stimulus  which  causes 
arterial  blood  to  flow  through  the  head  in  large  quantities,  so 
as  to  keep  the  vessels  duly  distended.  But  after  many  hours 
of  activity  the  ratio  of  repair  to  waste  is  sensibly  diminished; 
there  is  a  fall  in  the  average  chemical  instability  of  the 
cerebral  nerve-molecules,  and  a  consequent  diminution  in  the 
amount  of  cerebral  stimulus ;  until  presently  the  amount  of 
stimulus  sent  up  from  moment  to  moment  along  the  cervical 
branch  of  the  sympathetic  nerve  exceeds  the  amount  which 
the  cerebrum  can  oppose  to  it.  Experiment  has  shown  that 
the  effect  of  stimulating  the  sympathetic  nerve  is  to  contract 


ch.  ii.]  RHYTHM  307 

the  muscular  walls  of  the  cerebral  arteries.  The  supply  of 
arterial  blood  is  thus  so  far  diminished  that  consciousness 
ceases.  But  now  the  other  half  of  the  rhythm  begins.  The 
cessation  of  conscious  activity  greatly  diminishes  the  waste 
of  cerebral  tissue ;  and,  although  repair  is  also  somewhat 
lessened  by  the  lessened  blood-supply,  yet  the  ratio  of  repair 
to  waste  is  increased.  The  complex  nerve-molecules  are 
built  up  to  higher  and  higher  grades  of  instability,  until  it 
only  needs  a  slight  stimulus  from  without,  in  the  shape  of  a 
sensation  of  sound  or  of  light  or  of  touch,  to  elicit  a  discharge 
of  nerve-force  from  the  cerebral  ganglia.  This  discharge  is 
instantly  answered  by  a  rush  of  blood,  which  distends  the 
cerebral  arteries,  revives  consciousness,  and  holds  in  abeyance 
the  contractile  energy  of  the  sympathetic  nerve,  until  the 
decreasing  ratio  of  repair  to  waste  by  and  by  necessitates  a 
recurrence  of  the  rhythm.  Thus  the  alternation  of  sleep 
and  wakefulness  is  due  to  a  periodic  variation  in  the  ratio 
between  the  amount  of  nerve-force  stored  up  in  the  cerebrum 
and  the  amount  stored  up  in  the  sympathetic  ganglia.  We 
recognize  this  truth  in  practice  when  we  seek  to  induce  sleep 
by  stimulating  the  sympathetic  nerve  with  such  substances 
as  bromide  of  potassium. 

The  phenomenon  of  sleep  is  still  further  interesting  as 
the  most  familiar  instance  of  the  dependence  of  biologic 
rhythms  upon  astronomic  rhythms.  All  organisms,  animal 
and  vegetable,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  exhibit  alterna- 
tions in  the  total  distributions  of  their  forces,  which  coincide 
with  the  periodic  appearance  and  disappearance  of  sunlight. 
The  longer  astronomic  rhythm,  known  as  the  earth's  annual 
revolution,  causes  corresponding  rhythms  in  vegetable  and 
animal  life;  witness  the  blossoming  and  leafing  of  plants 
in  the  spring,  the  revival  of  insec*  activity  at  the  same 
season,  the  periodic  flights  of  migratory  birds,  the  hyber- 
nating  sleep  of  many  vertebrates,  and  the  thickened  coats  or 
the  altered  habits  of  others  that  do  not  hybernate.     If  we 

x  2 


308  COSMIC  PI1ILOSOPIIY.  [it.  il 

consider  the  species  instead  of  the  individual,  we  shall  find 
that  still  longer  astronomic  rhythms,  often  complicated  by 
geologic  rhythms,  cause  periodic  changes  in  the  total  mani- 
festations of  life  upon  the  earth's  surface.     Recurring  epochs 
of  high  eccentricity  of  the  earth's  orbit  have  so  altered  the 
distribution  of  solar  radiance  as  to  cause  violent  climatic 
vicissitudes.     Large  portions  of  the  earth  have  been  covered 
by  glaciers,  and  there  have  been  ensuing  migrations  of  plants 
and  animals,  attended  by  the  extinction  of  many  forms,  and 
by  specific  variations  among  the  survivors.     Other  rhythms 
in  the  distribution  of  life  have  been  caused  by  alternations 
in  the  elevation  and  subsidence  of  continents  and  islands. 
And  all  the  foregoing  causes,  taken  altogether,  have  been 
endlessly  complicated  by  rhythmic  changes  in  the  relations 
of  various  groups  of  organisms  to  one  another.     The  com- 
plexity  of    such   relations    is    strikingly   illustrated  in   an 
instance  given  by  Mr.  Darwin.     The  fertilization  of  hearts- 
ease and   red   clover   is    impossible  without  the  agency  of 
humble-bees   in   carrying   the    pollen   from    one   flower   to 
another.     Other  bees    do   not  visit   these  flowers,  as   their 
probosces  are  not  long  enough  to  reach  the  nectar;  while 
moths,  which  have  sufficiently  long  probosces,  are  not  heavy 
enough  to  bend  down  the  petals  in  such  a  way  that  the 
anthers  above  may  shed  pollen  upon  their  backs.     Hence 
the  partial  or  total  destruction  of  humble-bees  must  involve 
the  decrease  or  extinction  of  heartsease  and  red  clover.     But 
observation  shows  that  the  mortal  foes  of  humble-bees  are 
field-mice,  who  destroy  their  combs  and  nests.     It  is  esti- 
mated   that   in   England    more    than    two-thirds    of    each 
generation  of  humble-bees  are  destroyed  by  mice.     Hence 
it   follows   that   the   cat   is   a  friend   and  protector  of  the 
humble-bee ;  and  that  any  sensible  variation  in  the  number 
of  cats  in  a  given  district  must  indirectly  cause  a  variation 
in  the  numbers  of  heartsease  and  red  clover  which  grow  in 
the  neighbourhood.     It  is  only  needful  to  add  that  in  such 


ra.iL]  RHYTHM.  309 

variations  we  have  a  series  of  endlessly  complex  rhythms; 
as  is  obvious  from  the  fact  that  the  number  of  individuals 
in  any  species  is  never  constant,  but  is  continually  fluctua- 
ting about  an  average  mean.  The  cumulative  result  of  such 
rhythms,  going  on  through  countless  ages,  is  witnessed  in 
the  rhythmical  changes  of  organic  species  revealed  by 
palaeontology.  In  all  ages  specips  have  been  encroaching 
on  each  other,  and  while  some  have  been  growing  more 
abundant,  others  have  gradually  disappeared,  Thus  we  find 
successive  floras  and  faunas,  characteristic  of  successive 
geological  epochs,  showing  that  "life  on  the  earth  has  not  pro- 
gressed uniformly,  but  in  immense  undulations." 

For  the  further  illustration  and  more  abundant  proof  of 
the  law  that  all  motion  is  rhythmical,  I  must  refer  to  Mr. 
Spencer's  "First  Principles,"  where  the  subject  is  discussed 
much  more  fully  than  is  here  practicable.  But  our  last 
illustration,  from  the  succession  of  forms  of  life  upon  the 
earth,  suggests  still  another  supremely  important  aspect 
in  which  the  general  principle  must  be  viewed,  before  we 
leave  it. 

As  we  saw  in  our  initial  illustration,  from  the  movements 
of  heavenly  bodies,  where  a  rhythmical  motion  is  depen- 
dent on  only  two  compounded  forces,  the  result  is  a  closed 
curve.  Though  each  planet  is,  strictly  speaking,  subjected 
to  a  great  number  of  variously  compounded  forces  exerted 
on  it  by  all  its  companion  planets,  yet  these  forces  are  so 
insignificant  in  quantity,  compared  to  the  two  chief  forces  of 
solar  gravity  and  the  planet's  own  momentum,  that  they  do 
not  essentially  alter  the  result.  They  prevent  the  curve  in 
which  any  given  plant  moves  from  being  perfectly  regular, 
but  they  do  not  prevent  its  being  a  closed  curve  so  far  as  the 
solar  system  alone  is  concerned ;  so  that,  at  the  end  of  each 
rhythm,  the  distribution  of  forces  is  very  nearly  the  same  as 
at  its  beginning.  If  there  were  only  two  bodies  concerned, 
it  would  be  exactly  the  same  :  every  rhythm  would  end  in 


31C  COSMIC  PHILOSOFll  Y  [n.  n. 

bringing  about  precisely  the  same  state  of  things  with  which 
it  started.  But  where  there  are  a  vast  number  of  forces  at 
work,  as  in  the  evolution  of  the  earth  and  of  life  upon  its 
surface,  the  probability  is  infinitely  small  that  any  pair  of 
forces  can  so  far  predominate  over  all  the  rest  as  to  reduce 
their  effects  to  comparative  insignificance.  Hence  the  result- 
ing rhythms  will  not  be  closed  curves,  but  endlessly  com- 
plicated undulations ;  and  every  rhythm  will  end  in  bringing 
about  a  state  of  things  somewhat  different  from  that  in 
which  it  started.  To  recur  to  some  of  the  illustrations  above 
given  : — No  geologic  rhythm  of  elevation  and  subsidence 
leaves  the  distribution  of  land  and  water  over  the  earth 
exactly  as  it  found  it.  No  biologic  rhythm  of  sleep  and 
wakefulness  leaves  the  distribution  of  nutritive  forces  in 
the  organism  precisely  as  it  found  it;  otherwise  it  would 
not  be  true  that  each  day's  functional  activity  is  a  member 
of  the  series  of  changes  which  is  bearing  us  from  the  cradle 
to  the  grave.  In  an  exogenous  tree  each  annual  rhythm  results 
in  a  permanent  increase  of  woody  fibre :  in  a  mammal  it 
results  in  at  least  a  relative  increase  of  the  solid  constituents 
of  the  body  as  compared  with  the  fluid  and  semi-fluid  con- 
stituents. And  our  illustration  from  palaeontology  shows 
that  the  series  of  enormous  rhythms  in  which  the  history  of 
organic  life  consists,  has  introduced  a  new  state  of  things  in 
each  geologic  epoch.1 

We  have  now  proceeded  as  far  as  a  survey  of  the  widest 
generalizations  of  physics  can  carry  us,  and  before  we  attempt 
to  go  further,  we  may  fitly  present  in  a  single  view  the  con- 
clusions reached  in  this  and  in  the  preceding  chapter. 

We  observed  first  that  the  three  departments  of  abstract- 
concrete  science  are  alike  concerned  with  the  investigation  of 
the  general  laws  of  force  as  manifested  in  the  motions  of 

J  Hence  the  theory  of  Vico,  that  social  progress  takes  place  in  cycles  in 
which  history  literally  repeats  itself,  is  based  upon  a  very  inadequate  know 
edge  of  the  results  of  the  cooperation  of  many  interacting  forces. 


ch.  ii.]  RHYTHM.  311 

matter.  By  an  analysis  of  the  widest  propositions  which 
these  sciences  can  furnish,  concerning  the  movements  of 
masses  and  molecules,  we  arrived  at  the  axiom  that  every 
manifestation  of  force  must  be  preceded  and  followed  by  an 
equivalent  manifestation.  We  saw  that  this  axiom  is  involved, 
alike  in  every  special  theorem  with  which  each  physical 
inquiry  sets  out,  and  in  the  general  theorem  of  the  uniformity 
of  law  and  the  universality  of  causation  with  which  all 
physical  inquiries  must  equally  set  out.  We  saw  next  that 
this  axiom  gives  rise  to  three  corollaries  which,  as  expressing 
truths  that  transcend  the  sphere  of  any  single  science,  belong 
to  that  transcendental  region  of  knowledge  which  we  have 
assigned  to  philosophy.  By  our  first  corollary  it  appeared 
that  any  given  mode  of  motion  may  be  metamorphosed  into 
several  other  modes ;  so  that,  when  we  contemplate  such  a 
complex  system  of  motions  as  that  presented  by  the  various 
aggregations  of  matter  upon  the  suriace  of  our  earth,  it 
becomes  legitimate  to  inquire  from  what  antecedent  form  of 
energy  proceeded  all  these  motions.  This  inquiry  we  shall 
make  in  due  season.  By  our  second  corollary  it  appeared 
that  where  motion  results  from  the  composition  of  two  or 
more  forces,  it  must  always  take  place  in  the  line  of  least 
resistance  ;  but  that  the  difficulty  of  calculating  or  predicting 
this  resultant  line  must  increase  very  rapidly  with  each 
addition  to  the  number  of  forces  which  are  concerned  in 
producing  it. 

Our  third  corollary  has  given  us  glimpses  of  a  truth,  which, 
though  less  immediately  obvious,  is  equally  necessary  and 
equally  important  with  any  of  the  foregoing.  We  have  seen 
that,  in  the  hypothetical  case  of  a  single  moving  body  in  an 
otherwise  empty  universe,  the  direction  of  motion  would  be 
in  a  straight  line,  and  the  velocity  would  be  uniform.  In  the 
hypothetical  case  of  a  single  pair  of  mutually  attracting 
bodies  moving  in  independent  directions  in  an  otherwise 
empty  universe,  the  motion  would  be  rhythmical  both  in 


312  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  ii. 

direction  and  in  velocity,  but  it  would  take  place  in  closed 
curves,  and  the  distribution  of  forces  at  the  end  of  each 
rhythm  would  be  the  same  as  at  the  beginning.  In  the 
simplest  of  actual  cases,  however,  —  in  the  case  of  our 
planetary  system, — such  a  result,  though  apparently  realized 
so  long  as  we  eliminate  from  the  problem  all  factors  save  the 
two  principal  ones,  is  not  truly  realized  ;  and  if  we  were  to 
take  into  account  the  motions  of  the  whole  system,  due  to 
the  forces  exerted  upon  it  by  remote  stellar  systems,  we 
should  see  that  it  is  very  far  from  being  realized.  Viewed 
in  its  relations  to  the  entire  visible  universe  of  stellar  bodies, 
no  planet  moves  in  a  closed  curve ;  and  if  we  also  take  into 
consideration  the  unceasing  loss  of  molecular  motion  by 
each  cosmical  body,  we  shall  perceive  that  even  in  this 
relatively  simple  class  of  cases,  the  rhythms  are  far  too  com- 
plex ever  to  result  in  the  reproduction  of  a  given  distribu- 
tion of  forces.  In  the  relatively  complex  cases  furnished  by 
geology  and  biology,  this  truth  is  still  more  strikingly 
exemplified.  Thus  in  the  actual  case  with  which  our  science 
has  to  deal — the  case  of  a  universe  in  which  innumerable 
millions  of  bodies,  from  a  gigantic  star  like  Sirius  down  to 
an  inconceivably  minute  atom  of  hydrogen,  are  ceaselessly 
exerting  forces  upon  each  other — we  see,  not  only  that  all 
motions  must  be  rhythmical,  but  that  every  rhythm,  great 
or  small,  must  end  in  some  redistribution,  be  it  general  or 
local,  of  matter  and  motion. 

Or  to  state  this  final  conclusion  in  a  slightly  different 
form  : — The  mere  coexistence  of  a  vast  number  of  bodies  in 
the  universe  necessitates  perpetual  rhythm,  resulting  in  a 
continuous  redistribution  of  matter  and  motion.  Thus  fresh 
significance  is  given  to  the  truth  vaguely  surmised  by 
Herakleitos,  that  ceaseless  change  is  the  law  of  all  things, 
and  that  the  universe  of  phenomena  is  in  a  never-ending 
flux.  But  the  scientific  demonstration  further  shows  us  that 
the  change  is  always  from  an  old  state  to  a  new  state,  and 


ch.  ii.]  RHYTHM.  313 

thence  to  another  new  state,  but  never  back  to  the  old  state. 
Among  the  untold  millions  of  forces  which  science  con- 
templates as  cooperating  to  bring  about  any  given  state  of 
tilings,  the  permutations  and  combinations  are  practically 
infinite  ;  and  not  until  they  have  all  been  exhausted  can  an 
expired  epoch  be  reproduced  in  all  its  features. 


CHAPTER  III. 

EVOLUTION   AND   DISSOLUTION. 

We  must  now  consider  what  use  is  to  be  made  of  these 
universal  truths  which  the  foregoing  survey  of  the  abstract- 
concrete  sciences  has  disclosed.  For  if  we  inquire  whether 
these  theorems,  singly  or  combined,  can  be  made  to  supply 
the  materials  needful  for  constructing  such  an  organized  body 
of  truths  as  may  fitly  be  called  Cosmic  Philosophy, — it  will 
require  but  a  brief  consideration  to  show  us  that  much  more 
is  needed. 

In  respect  of  universality,  no  doubt,  these  truths  leave 
nothing  to  be  desired.  That  every  manifestation  of  force 
must  be  preceded  and  followed  by  an  equivalent  manifesta- 
tion; that  correlated  forms  of  energy  are  transmutable  one 
into  the  other ;  that  motion  follows  the  line  of  least  resist- 
ance; and  that  there  is  a  continuous  rhythmical  redistribu- 
tion of  matter  and  motion ; — these  are  propositions  which 
are  true  alike  of  all  orders  of  phenomena,  and  may  therefore 
justly  claim  to  be  regarded,  in  a  certaiu  sense,  as  philosophic 
truths.  Yet  we  need  only  fancy  ourselves  enunciating  these 
abstract  theorems  as  of  themselves  supplying  the  explanation 
of  any  given  order  of  concrete  phenomena,  in  order  to  realize 
how  far  we  still  remain  from  our  desired  goal.  If  we  were 
to  remind  a  biologist  that  in  every  step  of  his  investigations 
he  takes  for  granted  the  persistence  of  force,  he  would  doubt* 


ch.  in.]  EVOLUTION  AND  DISSOLUTION.  315 

less  assent ;  but  if  we  were  to  go  on  and  assert  that  upon 
this  axiom  might  be  directly  reared  a  science  of  organic 
phenomena,  he  would  laugh  us  to  scorn.  If  we  were  to 
assure  him  that  every  form  of  energy  manifested  by  his 
organisms,  from  the  molar  motions  of  the  stomach  in  diges- 
tion and  the  lungs  in  respiration  to  the  molecular  motions  of 
cerebral  ganglia,  must  have  pre-existed  in  some  other  form, 
he  would  thoroughly  agree  with  us,  but  would  ask  us  of 
what  use  is  all  this  unless  we  can  trace  the  course  and  the 
results  of  the  transformations.  If  we  were  still  to  insist 
that  all  the  motions  taking  place  in  the  aforesaid  organisms 
occur  rhythmically,  along  lines  of  least  resistance,  and  that 
every  such  rhythm  ends  in  a  more  or  less  considerable  redis- 
tribution of  molecular  motions,  we  might  still  be  met  by  the 
answer  that  all  this  does  not  give  us  a  science  of  biology 
unless  we  can  also  point  out  the  general  character  and  direc- 
tion of  the  changes  in  which  organic  rhythms  result. 

In  other  words  our  biologist  might  say  to  us,  with  Mr. 
Spencer,  that  all  these  profound  truths,  with  which  we  were 
seeking  to  take  away  his  occupation,  are  analytical  truths, 
and  that  "no  number  of  analytical  truths  will  make  up  that 
synthesis  of  thought  which  alone  can  be  an  interpretation  of 
the  synthesis  of  things.  The  decomposition  of  phenomena  into 
their  elements,"  (he  would  continue,)  "is  but  a  preparation 
for  understanding  phenomena  in  their  state  of  composition,  as 
actually  manifested.  To  have  ascertained  the  laws  of  the 
factors  is  not  at  all  to  have  ascertained  the  laws  of  their 
cooperation.  The  question  is,  not  how  any  factor  behaves 
by  itself,  or  under  some  imagined  simple  conditions;  nor  is 
it  even  how  one  factor  behaves  under  the  complicated  condi- 
tions of  actual  existence.  The  thing  to  be  expressed  is  the 
joint  product  of  the  factors  under  all  its  various  aspects. 
Only  when  we  can  formulate  the  total  process,  have  we 
gained  that  knowledge  of  it  which  Philosophy  aspires  to."1 
1  First  Principles,  p.  274. 


316  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  ii. 

It  is  necessary  for  us  therefore,  having  finished  our 
analysis,  to  begin  the  work  of  synthesis.  In  the  course  of 
our  search  for  the  widest  generalizations  of  Physics,  we  dis- 
covered, as  the  most  concrete  result  of  analysis,  that  there  is 
going  on  throughout  the  known  universe  a  continuous  redis- 
tribution of  matter  and  motion.  Let  us  now,  following  out 
the  hint  of  our  imaginary  interlocutor,  endeavour  to  ascertain 
the  extent,  character,  and  direction  of  this  continuous  redis- 
tribution. Have  the  infinitude  of  changes  in  the  aspect  of 
things,  which  the  rhythm  of  motion  necessitates,  any  common 
character,  and  if  they  have,  what  is  that  character  ?  Are  the 
redistributions  of  matter  and  motion,  which  are  going  on 
all  around  us,  aimless  and  unrelated,  or  do  they  tend  in 
common  toward  some  definable  result  ?  Can  any  formula 
be  found  which  will  express  some  dynamic  principle,  true  of 
the  whole  endless  metamorphosis  ? 

Or,  to  state  the  case  in  a  still  more  concrete  form,  when 
we  assert  "  that  knowledge  is  limited  to  the  phenomenal,  we 
have  by  implication  asserted  that  the  sphere  of  knowledge  is 
coextensive  with  the  phenomenal.  Hence,  wherever  we  now 
find  Being  so  conditioned  as  to  act  on  our  senses,  there  arise 
the  questions — how  came  it  thus  conditioned  ?  and  how  will 
it  cease  to  be  thus  conditioned  ?  Unless  on  the  assumption 
that  it  acquired  a  sensible  form  at  the  moment  of  perception, 
and  lost  its  sensible  form  the  moment  after  perception,  it 
must  have  had  an  antecedent  existence  under  this  sensible 
form,  and  will  have  a  subsequent  existence  under  this 
sensible  form.  These  preceding  and  succeeding  existences 
under  sensible  forms  are  possible  subjects  of  knowledge; 
and  knowledge  has  obviously  not  reached  its  limits  until  it 
has  united  the  past,  present,  and  future  histories  into  a 
whole."1 

Let  us  not  fail  to  note  that  science  and  ordinary  know- 
ledge concern  themselves  with  such  problems  no  less  than 

1  First  Principles,  p.  278. 


jh.  in.J  EVOLUTION  AND  DISSOLUTION.  317 

philosophy ;  and  that  in  seeking  to  formulate  fho  past, 
present,  and  future  history  of  that  aggregate  of  sensible 
phenomena  which  constitutes  the  knowable  unhorse,  philo- 
sophy transcends  the  sphere  of  science  in  just  the  same  way 
that  science  transcends  the  sphere  of  ordinary  knowledge, 
and  in  no  other.  A  large  portion  of  that  imperfectly- 
organized  knowledge  which  serves  to  guide  the  actions  even 
of  the  least  educated  men,  consists  of  information  concerning 
the  past  and  future  careers  of  the  objects  which  surround 
them.  Thus  we  recognize  the  child  of  twenty  years  ago  in 
the  grown  man  of  to-day  ;  we  know  that  the  coat  which  the 
man  wears  recently  existed  in  the  shape  of  unspun  and 
unwoven  wool  upon  a  sheep's  back ;  and  that  the  grass 
upon  which  this  sheep  fed,  consisted  of  matter  integrated  by 
countless  seeds  with  the  aid  of  solar  radiance.  And  we 
know,  besides,  that  the  man  and  the  coat  which  he  wears, 
the  sheep  and  the  grass  upon  which  it  feeds,  must  alike  pass 
from  their  present  state  of  aggregation  into  a  future  state  of 
dissolution.  This  kind  of  knowledge  science  is  ever  extend- 
ing, as  when  it  traces  back  the  man  and  the  sheep  to 
microscopic  germ -cells,  and  the  wool  and  the  grass  to  certain 
nitrogenous  and  hydro-carbon  compounds,  pre-existing  in 
the  atmosphere  and  soil.  Obviously,  therefore,  it  is  the 
business  of  philosophy,  extending  and  generalizing  the  same 
kind  of  information,  to  describe  the  universal  features  of  the 
process  by  which  cognizable  objects  acquire  and  lose  the 
sensible  forms  under  which  we  know  them. 

By  pointing  out  the  two  most  obvious  features  of  this 
process,  we  shall  render  still  more  intelligible  the  character 
of  the  problem  which  a  synthetic  philosophy  must  attempt 
to  solve.  The  foregoing  illustrations  show  us  that  a  complete 
account  of  anything  "  must  include  its  appearance  out  of 
the  imperceptible,  and  its  disappearance  into  the  impercep- 
tible." Now  a  change  of  state  by  virtue  of  which  any  object 
ceases  to  be  imperceptible  and  becomes  perceptible,  must  be 


318  cosmic  rniLosornY.  lpt.  u. 

a  change  from  a  state  of  diffusion  to  a  state  of  aggregation  ; 
and  the  converse  change,  from  aggregation  to  diffusion,  must 
"be  the  change  by  virtue  of  which  the  object  again  becomes 
imperceptible.  If,  for  example,  we  study  a  cloud,  we  find 
that  a  complete  history  of  it  is  contained  in  the  explanation 
of  its  concentration  from  millions  of  particles  of  aqueous 
vapour,  and  its  subsequent  dissipation  into  a  host  of  such  par- 
ticles. In  like  manner,  if  we  study  an  organism,  we  find  that 
from  germination  to  final  decomposition,  its  career  consists  of 
an  epoch  of  concentration  followed  by  an  epoch  of  diffusion, 
A  very  small  portion  of  its  constituent  matter  pre-existed  in 
a  concentrated  form  in  the  embryo ;  by  far  the  greater 
portion  pre-existed  in  the  shape  of  dispersed  nitrogenous 
and  carbonaceous  compounds,  which  the  growing  organism 
has  incorporated  with  its  own  structure.  Nay,  even  if  we 
inquire  into  the  previous  history  of  the  small  portion  which 
was  concentrated  in  the  embryo,  we  may  trace  it  back  to 
an  epoch  at  which  it  existed  in  a  state  of  dispersion,  as 
food  not  yet  assimilated  by  the  parent  organism.  If  the 
organism  in  question  belong  to  an  order  of  carnivorous 
animals,  we  shall  indeed  have  to  follow  its  constituent  ele- 
ments through  a  series  of  phases  of  concentration  ;  through' 
the  tissues  of  sundry  herbivorous  animals  upon  which  it  has 
fed,  and  again  through  the  tissues  of  numerous  plants  upon 
which  these  have  in  turn  subsisted ;  but  in  the  end  we  shall 
always  arrive  at  the  host  of  dispersed  molecules  which  these 
organisms  have  eliminated  from  the  breezes  and  the  trickling 
streamlets  by  which  their  leaves  and  roots  were  formerly 
bathed.  On  the  other  hand,  when  the  animal  dies,  and  the 
tree  falls  to  decay,  the  particles  of  which  they  consist  are 
again  dispersed  ;  and  though  they  may  again  be  brought 
together  in  new  combinations,  the  career  of  the  organism 
in  question  is  ended  with  this  dispersal.  Again  if,  instead 
of  a  transient  cloud  or  a  mobile  organism,  we  contemplate 
an  apparently  permanent  and  immobile  rock,  we  are  led  to  a 


on.  in.]  EVOLUTION  AND  DISSOLUTION.  3iy 

like  conclusion.  If  its  origin  be  purely  igneous,  tins  rock  may 
have  pre-existed  as  a  liquid  stream  of  matter  surging  beneath 
the  earth's  solid  envelope.  If  its  origin  be  aqueous,  its  con- 
stituent particles  were  once  diffused  over  a  wide  area  of 
country,  from  which  they  were  drawn  together  through  sundry 
rivulets  and  rivers,  and  here  at  last  deposited  as  sediment. 
In  either  case  the  process  by  which  the  rock  has  assumed 
an  individual  existence  has  been  a  process  of  concentration. 
And  when  it  ceases  to  exist — whether  it  is  blasted  with 
gunpowder,  or  chipped  away  with  chisels,  or  eaten  down 
by  runniug  water,  or  ground  to  pieces  by  ocean  waves,  or 
lowered  through  some  long  geologic  epoch  until  it  is  melted 
by  volcanic  heat — in  any  case  its  disappearance  is  effected 
by  a  process  of  diffusion. 

But  our  account  is  as  yet  only  half  complete.  In  saying 
that  the  career  of  any  object,  from  its  initial  appearance 
to  its  final  disappearance,  consists  of  a  process  of  concentra- 
tion followed  by  a  process  of  diffusion,  we  omit  an  important 
half  of  the  truth.  For  in  making  such  a  statement,  we  are 
attending  only  to  the  material  elements  of  which  objects 
are  composed;  and  we  are  leaving  out  of  the  account  the 
motions,  both  molar  and  molecular,  which  they  exhibit, 
and  which  constitute  an  equally  important  part  of  the  entire 
process.     This  defect  we  must  now  endeavour  to  remedy. 

A  brief  reconsideration  of  the  examples  already  cited  will 
show  us  that  universally  the  concentration  of  matter  is  ac- 
companied by  a  dissipation  of  motion,  while  conversely  the 
diffusion  of  matter  is  attended  by  an  absorption  of  motion. 
The  condensation  of  aqueous  vapour  into  a  cloud  is  effected 
whenever  it  loses  by  radiation  a  greater  quantity  of  that 
kind  of  molecular  motion  known  as  heat  than  it  is  receiving 
from  the  sun  and  the  earth ;  and  when  the  loss  of  motion  is 
still  more  considerable,  there  occurs  a  further  condensation 
of  the  aqueous  vapour  into  liquid  rain.  Conversely,  when 
solar  radiance,   direct  or  reflected,  begins  to  impart  to  the 


320  OOSMIO  PHIL080PHT.  [pt.  ii. 

condensing  cloud  an  amount  of  molecular  motion  in  excess 
of  that  which  it  loses  from  moment  to  moment,  condensation 
ceases,  and  the  particles  of  vapour  begin  to  be  dissipated. 
The  deposit  of  sediment  at  the  mouth  of  a  river  is  attended 
by  the  loss  of  the  molar  motions  which  brought  its  con- 
stituent particles  from  the  upland  regions  which  the  river 
drains ;   and  the  hardening  of  the  sediment  into  rock  is  a 
change  to  a  state  of  aggregation  in  which,  along  with  greater 
cohesion,  the  particles  possess  less  mobility  than  before.     In 
like  manner  the  hardening  of  an  igneous  rock   is  effected 
by  cooling,  which  implies  the  loss  of  internal  motion.     In- 
deed the  phenomena  of  heat  and  cold  exhibit  en  masse  an 
illustration  of  the  general  principle.      The  progress  of  any 
mass  of  matter  from  a  gaseous   to  a  liquid,  and  thence  tc 
a  solid  state,  is  attended  by  the  continuous  dissipation  of 
molecular  motion ;  while  change  in  the  contrary  direction  is 
attended  by  a  continuous  absorption  of  such  motion.     With 
molar  motions  the  case  is  precisely  similar.     "  Augment  the 
velocities  of  the  planets,  and  their  orbits  will  enlarge ;  the 
solar  system  will  occupy  a  wider  space.      Diminish   their 
velocities,  and  their  orbits  will  lessen ;  the  solar  system  will 
contract.     And  in  like  manner  we  see  that  every  sensible 
motion  on  the  earth's  surface  involves  a  partial  disintegration 
of  the  moving  body  from  the  earth,  while  the  loss  of  its 
motion  is  accompanied  by  the  body's  reintegration  with  the 
earth."     Finally,  if  we  consider  the  case  of  organisms,  we 
find  that  the  incorporation  of   food  into   the   substance   of 
the  tissues  is  constantly  accompanied  by  the  giving  out  of 
motion  in  some  form  of  organic  activity,  while  conversely. 
the  decomposition  which   follows  death  is  attended  by  an 
immense  absorption  of  molecular  motion.     The  latter  state- 
ment is  proved  by  the  fact  that  the  elements  of  which  such 
an  organism  as  the   human   body  is  composed,  have  more 
than  twenty  times  the  volume  when  free  which  they  have 
when  combined;    and  it  is  further  illustrated   by  the  fact 


ch.  in.]  EVOLUTION  AND  DISSOLUTION.  321 

that  dead  organisms,  from  which  all  supply  of  molecular 
motion  from  without  is  artificially  cut  off,  are  not  decom- 
posed. It  is  thus  that  animal  remains  are  preserved  for 
ages  in  blown  sand  and  in  peat-moss.  And  it  is  thus  that 
the  carcases  of  primeval  mammoths,  intact  even  to  the  bulbs 
of  the  eyes,  are  found  imbedded  in  arctic  ice  near  the  mouths 
of  Siberian  rivers,  just  where  they  were  slain  by  the  cold  a 
thousand  centuries  ago.1 

But  the  study  of  organic  phenomena  shows  us  that  our 
general  theorem  needs  some  further  revision.  As  it  now 
stands,  it  runs  some  risk  of  being  supposed  to  assert  that  the 
career  of  any  composite  body  is  at  first  characterized  solely 
by  the  concentration  of  matter  and  concomitant  dissipation 
of  motion,  and  is  at  last  characterized  solely  by  the  diffusion 
of  matter  and  concomitant  absorption  of  motion.  A  reference 
to  the  history  of  any  organism  will  at  once  show  that  this  is 
not  the  case.  While  the  human  body,  for  example,  is  con- 
tinually incorporating  with  its  tissues  new  matter  in  the 
shape  of  prepared  food,  large  portions  of  the  matter  once  in- 
corporated are  continually  diffused  in  the  shape  of  excretions 
through  the  lungs,  liver,  skin,  and  kidneys.  And  while  it  is 
constantly  parting  with  motion,  in  the  shape  of  radiated 
heat,  of  expended  nerve-force,  and  of  molar  motion  com- 
municated to  the  surrounding  objects  which  it  touches  or 
handles,  it  is  at  the  same  time  absorbing  large  quantities  of 
molecular  motion  latent  in  its  prepared  nutriment.  But  at 
jio  time  are  the  antagonist  processes  exactly  balanced.  During 
early  life  the  excess  of  concentration  over  diffusion  of  matter 
results  in  growth.  At  a  later  date  the  >  rhythms  due  to  the 
alternate  predominance  of  concentration  and  diffusion,  are  ex- 
hibited in  continual  fluctuations  in  weight.  Yet  the  fact  that 
the  healthy  body  usually  increases  in  weight  up  to  a  late 
period,  shows  that  ordinarily  concentration   is  still  predo- 

1  The  heads  of  these  animals  are  nearly  always  directed  southward.  See 
Lyell,  Principles  of  Gcolojy,  10th  edit.  vol.  i.  p.  184. 

VOL.  L  Y 


322  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  ii. 

minant.  And  this  is  still  more  convincingly  proved  by  the 
fact  that  in  old  age,  when  the  body  frequently  decreases 
both  in  weight  and  in  volume,  the  weight  decreases  !<■  is  than 
the  volume.  There  is  a  general  increase  in  density,  and  con- 
comitant loss  of  mobility,  due  to  the  increased  ratio  of  the 
solid  to  the  fluid  constituents  of  the  tissues,  and  exhibited  in 
the  hardness  and  brittleness  of  the  bones,  the  stiffness  of  the 
joints,  tha  sluggishness  of  the  circulation,  and  the  torpidity 
of  the  brain.  Finally  when,  in  accordance  with  the  general 
principle  of  rhythm,  the  consolidation  has  gone  so  far  as  to 
become  self-defeating,  the  antagonist  process  gains  the 
mastery  for  which  it  has  all  along  been  striving,  and  the 
constituents  of  the  body  are  separated  and  scattered. 

But  the  coexistence  and  alternate  mastery  of  these  two 
opposing  processes,  though  most  strikingly  exemplified  in  the 
case  of  organisms,  is  by  no  means  confined  to  organic  pheno- 
mena. Neither  in  the  cloud,  nor  in  the  rock,  which  we  have 
chosen  as  examples,  does  concentration  or  diffusion  ever  go 
on  alone.  The  one  is  always  antagonized  by  the  other. 
Even  while  the  cloud  is  most  rapidly  losing  motion  and  inte- 
grating matter,  it  is  receiving  some  solar  radiance,  either 
direct  or  reflected  from  the  earth  or  moon,  and  the  absorption 
of  this  radiance  causes  some  disintegration  of  its  matter. 
Even  while  it  is  most  quickly  vanishing  under  the  burning 
solar  rays,  this  cloud  is  still  simultaneously  losing  heat  by 
radiation,  and  the  loss  tends  to  reintegrate  it.  And  likewise 
our  sedimentary  rocky  deposit,  while  aggregating,  is  never- 
theless daily  abraded  by  passing  currents,  and  at  longer 
intervals  is  perhaps  cracked  by  those  telluric  vibrations 
known  as  earthquakes. 

As  finally  amended  then,  our  formula  asserts  that  the 
career  of  any  composite  body  is  a  series  of  more  or  less 
complicated  rhythms,  of  which  the  differential  result  is,  at 
first,  the  integration  of  its  constituent  matter  and  the  dissipa- 
tion of  part  of  its  contained  motion,  and,  at  last,  the  diffusion 


ch.  in.]  EVOLUTION  AND  DISSOLUTION.  323 

of  its  constituent  matter  accompanied  by  reabsorption  of  the 
lost  motion,  or  its  equivalent. 

Thus  we  are  gradually  reaching  something  like  a  concrete 
result.  As  we  saw,  in  the  preceding  chapter,  that  rhythm 
necessitates  a  continual  redistribution  of  matter  and  motion 
throughout  the  knowable  universe,  we  now  find  that  this 
continual  redistribution  everywhere  results  in  alternate  con- 
centration and  diffusion.  Such,  indeed,  must  inevitably  be 
the  result.  The  same  universal  principle  of  dynamics  which 
prevents  the  perturbations  in  the  solar  system  from  ever 
accumulating  all  in  the  same  direction,  is  also  to  be  seen 
exemplified,  on  a  more  general  scale,  in  the  law  that  neither 
aggregation  nor  diffusion  can  proceed  indefinitely  without 
being  checked  by  the  counter-process.  Unless  we  suppose 
that  the  sum  of  the  forces  which  produce  aggregation  is  infi- 
nitely greater  or  infinitely  less  than  the  sum  of  the  forces 
which  resist  aggregation,  so  that  either  the  one  or  the  other 
may  be  left  out  of  the  account,  we  must  admit  that  the  only 
possible  outcome  of  the  conflict  between  the  two  is  a  series 
of  alternations,  both  general  and  local,  between  aggregation 
and  dissipation. 

It  is  now  the  time  to  apply  to  these  antagonist  processes 
some  more  convenient  and  accurate  names  than  the  half- 
dozen  pairs  of  correlative  synonyms  by  which  we  have  thus 
far  described  them.  The  names  selected  by  Mr.  Spencer  will 
be  practically  justified  by  the  entire  exposition  contained  in 
the  following  chapters ;  but  even  the  cases  already  frag- 
mentarily  studied  enable  us  partly  to  realize  the  significance 
of  the  terms  Evolution  and  Dissolution,  by  which  he  has 
designated  these  processes.  In  Mr.  Spencer's  terminology, 
the  integration  of  matter  and  concomitant  dissipation  of 
motion  is  Evolution ;  while  the  absorption  of  motion  and 
-concomitant  disintegration  of  matter  is  Dissolution.  Both 
these  terms  possess  the  signal  advantage  that,  while  they 
admit  of  precise  scientific  definition,    they  are  at  the  same 

Y  2 


324  C03  MIC  1  'JUL  OSOPJl  Y.  [pt.il 

time  currently  used  in  senses  strictly  analogous  to  those  in 
which  tney  are  here  employed.  As  we  shall  presently  see, 
the  phenomena  of  organic  kfe  are  those  in  which  both  the 
primary  and  the  secondary  characteristics  of  Evolution  and 
Dissolution  are  most  conspicuously  exemplified.  Especially 
in  the  career  of  the  animal  organism,  these  complementary 
processes  are  manifested  in  groups  of  phenomena  that  are 
more  easily  generalized  and  more  immediately  interesting 
than  any  others  of  like  complexity ;  and  to  these  groups  of 
phenomena  the  terms  Evolution  and  Dissolution  have  long 
been  popularly  applied. 

On  a  superficial  view  it  may  now  seem  as  if  we  were  ready 
to  proceed,  in  the  next  chapter,  to  describe  in  detail  the 
process  of  Evolution,  as  exemplified  in  that  most  gigantic 
instance  of  concentration  of  matter  and  dissipation  of  motion, 
— the  development  of  our  planetary  system,  by  condensation 
and  radiation,  from  ancestral  nebulous  matter.  In  this 
origin,  by  aggregation,  of  our  system  of  worlds,  and  in  that 
ultimate  dissipation  of  it  into  nebulous  matter  which  sundry 
astronomic  facts  have  long  taught  us  to  anticipate,  we  shall 
presently  find  a  complete  and  striking  illustration  of  the 
dynamic  principles  herein  set  forth.  But  we  are  not  yet 
quite  prepared  to  enter  upon  the  consideration  of  these 
phenomena.  We  need  but  remember  that  in  the  develop- 
ment of  the  solar  system,  with  its  mutually  dependent 
members  sustaining  complex  and  definite  relations  to  each 
other,  much  more  is  implied  besides  concentration  of  plane- 
tary matter  and  diffusion  of  molecular  motion  in  the  shape  of 
heat;  we  need  but  remember  this,  and  we  shall  see  that 
some  further  preliminary  study  is  requisite.  While,  indeed, 
the  primary  characteristics  of  Evolution  and  Dissolution  are 
those  which  are  expressed  in  the  pair  of  definitions  above 
given,  and  which  it  has  been  the  object  of  the  foregoing 
inquiry  to  illustrate ;  there  are  also,  as  just  hinted,  certain 
secondary  characteristics  which  it  is  equally  necessary  to 


ih.  in.]  EVOLUTION  AND  DISSOLUTION.  325 

formulate.  While  Evolution  always  consists  primarily  in  an 
integration  of  matter  and  concomitant  dissipation  of  motion, 
it  ordinarily  implies  much  more  than  this.  And  it  is  obvious 
that  only  when  all  the  characteristics,  both  primary  and 
secondary,  of  Evolution  and  Dissolution,  are  expressed  in  a 
single  formula,  can  we  be  said  to  have  obtained  the  law  of 
the  continuous  redistribution  of  matter  and  motion  which 
rhythm  necessitates  throughout  the  knowable  universe. 

To  show  how  this — the  most  sublime  achievement  of 
modern  science — has  been  brought  about,  will  be  the  object 
of  the  following  chapter. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION. 

Laplace  has  somewhere  reminded  us  that,  while  gratefully 
rendering  to  Newton  the  homage  due  to  him  for  his  trans- 
cendent achievements,  we  must  not  forget  how  singularly 
fortunate  he  was  in  this — that  there  was  but  one  law  of 
gravitation  to  be  discovered.    The  implication  that,  if  Newton 
had  not  lived,  Laplace  might  himself  have  been  the  happy 
discoverer,  is  perhaps  a  legitimate  one,  though  it  does  not 
now  especially  concern  us.     But  the  implied  assertion  that 
Nature  had  no  more  hidden  treasures  comparable  in  worth 
and  beauty  to  that  with  which  she  rewarded  the  patient 
sagacity  of  the  great  astronomer,  is  one  which  recent  events 
have  most  signally  refuted.     We  now  know  that  other  laws 
remained  behind — as   yet   others  still  remain — unrevealed  ; 
laws  of  nature  equalling  the  law  of  gravitation  in  universality, 
and  moreover  quite  as  coy  of  detection.     For  while  it  may 
be  admitted   that   the   demonstrations   in  the  "  Principia " 
required  the  highest  power   of  quantitative   reasoning   yet 
manifested  by  the  human  mind;  and  while  the  difficulties 
and  discouragements   amid  which   Newton   approached   his 
task,  destitute  as  he  was  alike  of  modern  methods  of  mea- 
surement and  of  the  resources  of  modern  analysis,  impress 
upon  us  still  more  forcibly  the  wonderful  character  of  the 


ch.  iv.]  THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION.  327 

acliie"\  ement ;  it  must  still  be  claimed  that  the  successful 
coordination  of  the  myriad-fold  phenomena  formulated  by 
the  Law  of  Evolution,  was  a  gigantic  task,  requiring  the  full 
exertion  of  mental  powers  no  less  extraordinary  than  those 
required  by  the  other.     In  an  essay  published  thirteen  years 
ago,  youthful  enthusiasm  led  me  to  speak  of  Mr.  Spencer's 
labours  as  comparable  to  those  of  Newton  both  in  scope  and 
in  importance.     More  mature  reflection  has  confirmed  this 
view,  and  suggests  a  further  comparison  between  the  mental 
qualities  of  the  two  thinkers ;  resembling  each  other  as  they 
do,  alike  in  the  audacity  of  speculation  which  propounds  far- 
reaching  hypotheses  and  in    the  scientific  soberness  which 
patiently  verifies  them  ;  while  the  astonishing  mathematical 
genius  peculiar  to  the  one  is  paralleled  by  the  equally  unique 
power  of  psychologic  analysis  displayed  by  the  other.    As 
in  grandeur  of  conception  and  relative  thoroughness  of  elabo- 
ration, so  also  in  the  vastness  of  its  consequences — in  the 
extent  of  the  revolution  which  it  is  destined  to  effect  in 
men's  modes  of  thinking,  and  in  their  views  of  the  universe 
—  Mr.  Spencer's  discovery  is  on  a  par  with  Newton's.     In- 
deed, by  the  time  this  treatise  is  concluded,  we  may  perhaps 
see   reasons  for  regarding  it  as,  in  the  latter  respect,  the 
superior  of  the  two. 

To  give  anything  like  an  adequate  idea  of  the  extent  and 
importance  of  this  discovery,  or  of  the  enormous  mass  of 
inductive  evidence  which  joins  with  deduction  in  establish- 
ing it,  is  of  course  impracticable  within  the  limits  of  a  single 
chapter.  We  must  be  content  for  the  present  with  ex- 
hibiting a  rude  outline-sketch  of  its  most  conspicuous 
features,  leaving  it  for  the  succeeding  series  of  discussions 
to  finish  the  picture.  Let  us  begin  by  briefly  summing  up 
the  results  already  obtained. 

It  has  been  shown  that  the  coexistence  of  antagonist 
forces  throughout  the  knowable  universe  necessitates  a  uni- 
versal rhythm   of  motion;   and  that  in  proportion  to  the 


»28  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  n. 

number  of  forces  anywhere  concerned  in  producing  a  given 
set  of  motions,  the  resulting  rhythms  are  complex.  It  baa 
been  further  shown  that,  save  where  the  rhythms  are  abso- 
lutely simple — a  case  which  is  never  actually  realized — 
there  must  occur  a  redistribution  of  matter  and  motion  as 
the  result  of  each  rhythm.  It  next  appeared  that  such  a 
redistribution  involves  on  the  one  hand  an  integration  of 
matter,  which  implies  a  concomitant  dissipation  of  motion, 
and  on  the  other  hand  a  disintegration  of  matter,  which 
implies  a  concomitant  absorption  of  motion.  The  former 
process,  which  results  in  the  acquirement  of  an  individual 
existence  by  sensible  objects,  has  been  named  Evolution : 
the  latter  process,  which  results  in  the  loss  of  individual 
existence  by  sensible  objects,  has  been  named  Dissolution. 
And  we  saw  it  to  be  a  corollary  from  the  universality  of 
rhythm  that,  while  these  two  antagonist  processes  must  ever 
be  going  on  simultaneously,  there  must  be  an  alternation  of 
epochs  during  which  now  the  former  and  now  the  latter  is 
predominant.  In  conclusion,  it  was  barely  hinted  that  these 
two  fundamental  modes  of  redistribution  must  give  rise,  in 
the  majority  of  cases,  to  secondary  redistributions,  which 
it  is  the  business  of  a  scientific  philosophy  to  define  and 
formulate. 

Now,  as  we  are  about  to  start  upon  a  long  and  complicated 
inquiry,  the  proper  treatment  of  which  must  task  our  utmost 
resources  of  exposition,  it  will  be  desirable  at  the  outset  to 
disencumber  ourselves  of  all  such  luggage  as  we  are  not 
absolutely  obliged  to  take  along  with  us.  We  shall  there- 
fore, for  the  present,  leave  the  process  of  Dissolution  entirely 
out  of  the  account,  or  shall  refer  to  it  only  incidentally,  in 
cases  where  such  a  reference  may  assist  in  the  elucidation  of 
the  counter-process.  In  the  following  chapter  we  shall  have 
iccasion  to  treat  of  Dissolution  in  some  detail  as  exemplified 
in  the  probable  future  disintegration  of  our  planetary  system  ; 
at  present  we  are  concerned  only  with  Evolution,  which  we 


en.  iv.]  THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION.  329 

have  already  seen  to  consist  in  the  integration  of  matter  and 
concomitant  dissipation  of  motion,  but  which,  as  we  shall 
presently  see,  implies  in  most  cases  much  more  than  this. 
Let  us  first  point  out  the  conditions  under  which  the  secon- 
dary redistributions  attending  Evolution  take  place ;  and  let 
us  then  proceed  to  point  out  the  common  characteristics  of 
these  secondary  changes. 

Obviously  in  speaking  of  secondary  redistributions  that  go 
on  while  a  body  is  integrating  its  matter  and  losing  its 
motion,  we  refer  to  redistributions  among  the  parts  of  the 
body  and  among  the  relative  motions  of  the  parts, — or,  in 
other  words,  to  alterations  in  structure  and  function  going  on 
within  the  body.  Now  the  ease  with  which  such  redistribu- 
tions are  effected,  and  the  ease  with  which  they  are 
maintained,  must  depend  alike,  though  in  precisely  opposite 
ways,  upon  the  amount  of  motion  retained  by  the  integrating 
body.  The  greater  the  amount  of  retained  motion,  the  more 
easily  will  internal  redistributions  be  effected.  The  smaller 
the  amount  of  retained  motion,  the  more  easily  will  such 
redistributions  be  rendered  permanent.  These  propositions 
are  so  abstruse  as  to  require  some  further  illustration. 

When  water  is  converted,  by  loss  of  its  internal  motion, 
into  ice,  the  amount  of  secondary  rearrangement  which 
occurs  among  its  particles  is  comparatively  slight,  but  it  is 
permanent  so  long  as  the  state  of  integration  lasts.  During 
the  continuance  of  the  solid  state  there  is  not  enough 
mobility  among  the  particles  to  admit  of  further  rearrange- 
ment to  any  conspicuous  extent.  On  the  other  hand,  after 
steam  has  been  integrated  into  water,  the  retention  of  a  con- 
siderable amount  of  molecular  motion  allows  internal  re- 
arrangement to  go  on  so  easily  and  rapidly  that  no  momentary 
phase  of  it  has  a  chance  to  become  permanent;  and  there 
can  thus  be  no  such  stable  arrangement  of  parts  as  we  call 
structure.  The  phenomena  of  crystallization  supply  us  with 
kindred,  but  slightly  different  examples.      When  a  crystal  is 


330  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [it.  11. 

deposited  from  a  solution,  there  is  a  certain  point  op  to  which 
the  retention  of  motion  keeps  the  crystal's  molecules  from 
uniting  ;  but  as  soon  as  this  point  is  passed,  the  motion  is 
suddenly  lost,  the  crystal  solidifies,  and  there  is  no  further 
redistribution  of  its  particles.  Conversely,  when  a  molten 
metal  is  allowed  to  cool  until  it  assumes  a  plastic  semi-fluid 
state,  its  molecular  motion  is  lost  so  slowly  that  a  perceptible 
rearrangement  of  parts  is  possible :  currents  may  be  set  up 
in  it,  gravity  will  cause  it  to  spread  out  wherever  it  is  not 
confined  at  the  side,  and  pressure  here  and  there  will  variously 
mould  it.  But  when  it  becomes  solid,  the  rearrangements 
which  occurred  latest  become  permanent,  and  further  re- 
arrangements cannot  be  produced  save  by  a  fresh  supply  of 
molecular  motion.  In  like  manner,  when  we  come  to  study 
planetary  evolution,  we  shall  find  strong  reasons  for  believing 
that  on  small  bodies,  like  the  moon  and  the  asteroids,  which 
have  rapidly  lost  their  internal  heat,  there  has  been  but 
little  chance  for  such  complex  secondary  rearrangements  as 
have  occurred  upon  our  relatively  large  and  slowly  cooling 
earth. 

Even  after  the  attainment  of  solidity,  however,  a  new 
supply  of  motion  from  without  may  cause  some  further 
redistribution  without  causing  the  body  to  relapse  into 
fluidity.  Thus  a  wrought-iron  rail,  which  when  new  is 
tough  and  fibrous,  gradually  acquires  the  brittle  crystalline 
texture  of  cast-iron,  under  the  influence  of  the  vibrations 
communicated  by  the  cars  which  pass  over  it.  And  the 
magnetization  of  steel  rods,  when  fastened  in  the  meridian 
and  frequently  jarred,  is  cited  by  Mr.  Spencer  as  a  fact  of 
like  import.  Many  other  excellent  illustrations,  gathered 
from  physics  and  chemistry,  may  be  found  in  the  thirteenth 
chapter  of  the  second  part  of  "  First  Principles."1 

1  Throughout  this  work,  reference  is  made  only  to  the  second  and  re- 
written edition  of  "  First  Principles,"  London,  1867.  The  statement  of  thf 
law  of  evolution,  as  contained  in  the  first  edition,  is  much  less  complete  ani 
coherent. 


ch.  iv.]  THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION  331 

If  now  we  contemplate  in  a  single  view  the  general 
principles  above  illustrated,  we  shall  seem  for  a  moment  to 
have  got  into  difficulties.  Unavoidably,  in  using  the  word 
Evolution,  we  have  suggested  the  idea  of  increase  in  structural 
complexity ;  and  such  increase  of  course  implies  a  con- 
siderable amount  of  permanent  internal  rearrangement  as 
consequent  upon  the  primary  process  of  integration.  Yet 
under  the  conditions  thus  far  studied,  we  find  that  "  on  the 
one  hand,  a  large  amount  of  secondary  redistribution  is 
possible  only  where  there  is  a  great  quantity  of  contained 
motion ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  these  redistributions  can 
have  permanence  only  where  the  contained  motion  has 
become  small — opposing  conditions  which  seem  to  negative 
any  large  amount  of  permanent  secondary  redistribution." 
We  must  therefore  search  for  some  more  peculiar  and  special 
combination  of  conditions  before  we  can  understand  how 
Evolution  may  result  in  great  structural  complexity. 

It  is  in  the  case  of  organic  bodies  "  that  these  apparently 
contradictory  conditions  are  reconciled  ;  and  that,  by  the 
reconciliation  of  them,  permanent  secondary  redistributions 
immense  in  extent  are  made  possible."  The  distinctive 
peculiarity  of  organic  bodies  "  consists  in  the  combination  or 
matter  into  a  form  embodying  an  enormous  amount  of  motion 
at  the  same  time  that  it  has  a  great  degree  of  concentration." 
Let  us  enumerate  the  several  ways  in  which  organic  bodies 
are  enabled  to  retain  vast  quantities  of  molecular  motion, 
without  losing  their  high  degree  of  concentration.  The  facts 
to  be  contemplated  are  among  the  most  beautiful  and  striking 
facts  which  the  patient  interrogation  of  nature  has  ever 
elicited. 

In  the  first  place,  while  one  of  the  four  chief  components 
of  organic  matter  is  carbon,  a  solid  substance  which  cannot 
be  fused  by  the  greatest  heat  that  man  can  produce,  the  other 
chief  components — oxygen,  hydrogen,  and  nitrogen — are 
gases  which  human  art  is  unable  to  liquefy.  At  a  temperature 


832  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.il 

of  more  than  200  degrees  below  the  zero  of  Fahrenheit,  and 
under  a  pressure  so  enormous  as  to  shorten  the  steel  piston 
employed,  oxygen  remains  gaseous ;  and  hydrogen  and 
nitrogen  display  a  like  obstinate  molectilar  mobility.  Now, 
of  these  four  substances,  carbon  has  the  most  highly  com- 
pounded molecule.  In  chemical  language,  the  molecule  of 
carbon  is  tetratomic,  while  that  of  nitrogen  is  triatomic,  that 
of  oxygen  is  diatomic,  and  that  of  hydrogen  is  monatomic. 
That  is  to  say,  a  single  molecule  of  carbon  will  hold  in  com- 
bination two  molecules  of  oxygen,  or  four  molecules  of 
hydrogen  ;  while  three  molecules  of  carbon  will  hold  four 
molecules  of  nitrogen.  It  follows  that  in  any  organic  com- 
pound, made  up  of  the  four  above-named  elements,  a  large 
number  of  molecules,  possessing  enormous  mobility,  must  be 
held  in  combination  by  a  relatively  small  number  of  molecules 
possessing  little  mobility.  And,  since  it  is  a  corollary  from 
the  persistence  of  force  that  the  sum  of  properties  belonging 
to  any  compound  must  be  the  resultant  of  the  properties 
belonging  to  its  constituent  elements,  it  follows  that  a  com- 
pound molecule  of  organic  matter  must  concentrate  a  great 
amount  of  motion  in  a  small  space.  If,  for  example,  we 
suppose  ten  molecules  of  carbon  united  with  four  of  oxygen, 
eight  of  hydrogen,  and  eight  of  nitrogen,  we  shall  have  a 
compound  in  which  ten  immobile  molecules  hold  together 
twenty  highly  mobile  molecules.  And  while  the  twenty 
retain  much  of  their  mobility,  the  immobile  ten  prevent  this 
mobility  from  disintegrating  the  compound. 

Here  we  have  reached  a  most  beautiful  and  marvellous 
truth.  If  we  now  proceed,  secondly,  to  follow  out  the  way  in 
which  these  quantitative  relations  are  compounded,  the  case 
will  appear  still  more  remarkable.  Instead  of  tens  and 
twenties,  we  have  to  deal  with  hundreds  of  integrated 
molecules.  Instead  of  such  hypothetical  cases  as  the  one 
just  cited,  we  have  to  contemplate  real  cases  like  the  follow- 
ing.    A   single  molecule  of   albumen  is  built  up  of  twa 


ch.  nr.]  THE  LA  W  OF  EVOLUTION.  333 

molecules  of  sulphur  and  one  of  phosphorus,  compounded 
with  ten  organic  molecules,  of  which  each  one  contains  forty 
molecules  of  carbon,  five  of  nitrogen,  twelve  of  oxygen,  and 
thirty-one  of  hydrogen.  Or,  to  reduce  the  statement  to 
its  simplest  form, — in  every  molecule  of  albumen  we  have 
1,600  atomic  equivalents  of  carbon,  150  of  nitrogen,  240  of 
oxygen,  310  of  hydrogen,  10  of  sulphur,  and  6  of  phosphorus  ; 
making  a  grand  total  of  2,316  atomic  equivalents.  And  the 
molecule  of  fibrine  is  still  more  intricately  compounded. 

Thirdly,  when  we  recollect  that  the  simplest  organic 
matter  actually  existing  contains  not  one  but  very  many 
albuminous  molecules,  and  that  these  molecules  are  arranged, 
not  in  the  crystalloid,  but  in  the  colloid  form, — in  "  clusters 
of  clusters  which  have  movements  in  relation  to  one  another," 
— we  see  still  more  clearly  how  vast  must  be  the  quantity  of 
motion  locked  up  within  a  small  compass. 

Our  fourth  item  is  perhaps  the  most  remarkable  of  all. 
In  the  albumen-molecule,  the  sum  of  all  the  atomic  equiva- 
lents, except  those  of  carbon,  is  716.  In  order  to  hold  these 
in  combination,  only  716  atomic  equivalents  of  carbon  would 
appear  to  be  needed ;  yet  we  find  1,600  equivalents.  Why 
this  apparent  excess  of  carbon  ? — The  answer  is  to  be  found 
in  the  fact  that  nitrogen,  unlike  most  other  substances, 
absorbs  heat  on  entering  into  combination.  To  the  mole- 
cular motion  which  keeps  it  when  free  in  a  gaseous  state, 
it  adds  a  vast  quantity  of  molecular  motion.  It  has  been 
calculated  that  the  union  of  a  pound  of  oxygen  with  nitrogen, 
in  forming  nitrous  oxide,  is  attended  by  the  absorption  of 
enough  heat  to  raise  the  temperature  of  9,232  pounds  of 
water  one  degree  Centigrade.  It  is  probably  owing  to  this 
peculiarity  that  nitrogen,  which  is  so  inert  when  free,  is  so 
wonderfully  active  when  combined.  Hence,  too,  we  may 
understand  the  extreme  instability  of  such  nitrogenous  sub- 
stances as  gunpowder,  gun-cotton,  and  nitro-glycerine.  And 
hence  we  may  begin  to  discern  the  reason  why  nitrogen  is 


334  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  ii. 

the  most  important  of  the  chemical  elements  concerned  in 
maintaining  vital  activity.  Now  when  we  compare  this 
property  of  nitrogen  with  the  apparent  excess  of  carbon  in 
the  albumen-molecule,  we  may  fairly  surmise  that  the  two 
facts  indicate  a  balance  between  the  forces  that  tend  to  pro- 
duce internal  rearrangement  and  the  forces  that  tend  to 
prevent  disintegration. 

Fifthly,  besides  the  fact  that  organic  bodies  usually  possess 
an  amount  of  heat  which  keeps  their  temperature  somewhat 
above  that  of  their  inorganic  environment,  we  have  to  note 
the  fact  that  all  organic  matter  is  permeated  by  water. 
Hence,  while  sufficiently  solid  to  preserve  their  continuity  of 
structure,  organic  bodies  are  sufficiently  plastic  to  allow  of 
much  internal  rearrangement. 

If  we  had  time,  it  would  be  interesting  to  go  on  and  trace 
the  facts  just  enumerated  through  many  complex  exemplifi- 
cations. We  might  comment  at  length  upon  the  significance 
of  the  facts  that  certain  animals,  as  the  Rotifer  a,  lose  their 
vitality  when  dried  and  regain  it  when  wetted ;  that  vital 
activity  everywhere  demands  a  supply  of  heat,  and  that  the 
most  complex  organisms  are  in  general  the  warmest ;  that 
animals  contain  more  nitrogen  than  plants,  and  are  at  the 
same  time  more  highly  evolved;  that  carnivorous  animals 
are  relatively  stronger  and  more  active  than  herbivorous 
animals  ;  that  the  parts  of  animals  which  are  the  seats  of 
the  highest  vitality  are  mainly  nitrogenous,  while  the  more 
inert  parts  are  mainly  carbonaceous ;  that  the  highly  nitro- 
genous matter  composing  the  nervous  system  is  nevertheless 
— as  if  to  preserve  the  balance — always  accompanied  by 
inert  carbonaceous  fat;  and  that,  while  a  nitrogenous  diet 
renders  possible  the  greatest  quantity  of  physical  and  mental 
activity,  at  the  same  time  carbonaceous  alcohol  retards  the 
waste  of  nervous  tissue. 

But  even  without  entering  upon  such  a  course  of  illustra- 
tion— which  would  oblige  us  to  defer  our  main  subject  until 


sh.  iv.]  THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION.  335 

another  occasion — we  are  now  enabled  to  see  how  it  is  that 
organic  bodies  can  practically  solve  the  dynamic  paradox  of 
acquiring  a  high  degree  of  concentration,  even  while  retain- 
ing an  immense  amount  of  motion.  We  are  prepared  to 
find,  under  these  quite  peculiar  conditions,  the  structural 
rearrangements  characteristic  of  Evolution  carried  on  to  a 
great  extent.  And  we  need  not  be  surprised  at  finding  these 
secondary  phenomena  here  displayed  so  conspicuously  as  to 
obscure  the  significance  of  the  primary  phenomenon,  inte- 
gration. It  was,  in  fact,  through  the  study  of  organic  pheno- 
mena by  physiologists  that  a  formula  was  first  obtained  for 
the  most  conspicuous  features  of  Evolution  ;  while  the  less 
obtrusive  but  more  essential  feature  not  only  remained  un- 
noticed until  Mr.  Spencer  discerned  it,  but  was  not  ade- 
quately treated  even  by  him  previous  to  the  publication  of 
his  rewritten  "  First  Principles,"  in  1867.  I  think  it  there- 
fore advisable,  in  dealing  with  the  law  as  generalized  from 
organic  phenomena,  to  begin  by  describing  these  most  con- 
spicuous features.  We  shall  thus  obtain  a  clearer  view  of 
the  whole  subject  than  we  could  well  obtain  in  any  other 
way.  Having  shown  that  Evolution  is  always  and  primarily 
an  integration  of  matter  attended  by  a  dissipation  of  motion ; 
and  having  shown  that  under  certain  conditions,  most  com- 
pletely realized  by  organic  bodies,  certain  secondary  but 
equally  important  phenomena  of  structural  rearrangement 
may  be  expected  to  accompany  this  fundamental  process ; 
we  must  next  show  what  these  secondary  phenomena  are. 

The  exposition  will  be  rendered  clearer  by  the  preliminary 
explanation  of  four  technical  terms,  which  will  continually 
recur,  and  which  must  be  thoroughly  understood  before  any 
further  step  can  be  taken  toward  comprehending  the  Law  of 
Evolution.  These  terms  are  neither  obscure  in  themselves, 
nor  newly  coined,  but  because  we  shall  henceforth  employ 
them  in  a  strict  and  special  sense,  they  require  careful 
definition. 


336  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  ii. 

I.  An  object  is  said  to  be  homogeneous  when  each  of  its 
parts  is  like  every  other  part.  An  illustration  is  not  easy  to 
find,  since  perfect  homogeneity  is  not  known  to  exist.  But 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  relative  homogeneity  ;  and  we  say 
that  a  piece  of  gold  is  homogeneous  as  compared  with  a 
piece  of  wood;  or  that  a  wooden  ball  is  homogeneous  as 
compared  with  an  orange. 

II.  An  object  is  said  to  be  heterogeneous  when  its  parts  do 
not  all  resemble  one  another.  All  known  objects  are  more  or 
less  heterogeneous.  But,  relatively  speaking,  a  tree  is  said 
to  be  heterogeneous  as  compared  with  the  seed  from  which  it 
has  sprung ;  and  an  orange  is  heterogeneous  as  compared  with 
a  wooden  ball. 

III.  Differentiation  is  the  arising  of  an  unlikeness  between 
any  two  of  the  units  which  go  to  make  up  an  aggregate.  It 
is  the  process  through  which  objects  increase  in  heteroge- 
neity. A  piece  of  cast-iron,  before  it  is  exposed  to  the  air  is 
relatively  homogeneous.  But  when,  by  exposure  to  the  air, 
it  has  acquired  a  coating  of  ferric  oxide,  or  iron-rust,  it  is 
relatively  heterogeneous.  The  units  composing  its  outside 
are  unlike  the  units  composing  its  inside  ;  or,  in  other  words, 
its  outside  is  differentiated  from  its  inside. 

IV.  The  term  integration  we  have  already  partly  defined  as 
the  concentration  of  the  material  units  which  go  to  make  up 
any  aggregate.  But  a  complete  definition  must  recognize 
the  fact  that,  along  with  the  integration  of  wholes,  there 
goes  on  (in  all  cases  in  which  structural  complexity  is 
attained)  an  integration  of  parts.  This  secondary  integra- 
tion may  be  defined  as  the  segregation,  or  grouping  togethei , 
of  those  units  of  a  heterogeneous  aggregate  which  resemble 
one  another.  A  good  example  is  afforded  by  crystallization 
The  particles  of  the  crystallizing  substance,  which  resemble 
each  other,  and  which  do  not  resemble  the  particles  of  thf 
solvent  fluid,  gradually  unite  to  form  the  crystal ;  which  is 
thus  said  to  be  integrated  from  the  solution.     Integration  u 


ch.  iv.]  THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION.  337 

also  seen  in  the  rising  of  cream  upon  the  surface  of  a  dish 
of  milk,  and  in  the  frothy  collection  of  carbonic-acid  bubbles 
covering  a  newly-filled  glass  of  ale. 

Obviously  as  it  is  through  differentiation  that  an  aggregate 
increases  in  heterogeneity,  so  it  is  through  integration  that  an 
aggregate  increases  in  definiteness,  of  structure  and  function. 
But  there  is  still  another  way  in  which  integration  is  exem- 
plified. Along  with  increasing  heterogeneity  and  definiteness 
of  structure  and  function,  the  evolution  of  an  aggregate  i? 
marked  by  the  increasing  subordination  of  the  various  func- 
tions, with  their  structures,  to  the  requirements  of  the  general 
functional  activity  of  the  aggregate.  In  other  words,  along 
with  growing  specialization  of  parts,  there  is  a  growing 
cooperation  of  parts,  and  an  ever-increasing  mutual  de- 
pendence among  parts.  An  illustration  is  furnished  by  the 
contrasted  facts,  that  a  slightly-evolved  animal,  like  a 
common  earth-worm,  may  be  cut  in  two  without  destroy- 
ing the  life  of  either  part ;  while  a  highly-evolved  animal, 
like  a  dog,  is  destroyed  if  a  single  artery  is  severed,  or  if 
any  one  of  the  viscera  is  prevented  from  discharging  its 
peculiar  functions.  This  third  kind  of  integration  is  the 
process  through  which  an  evolving  aggregate  increases  in 
coherence.  And  with  this,  our  definition  of  the  factors  which 
concur  in  the  process  of  evolution  is  complete. 

We  are  now  prepared  to  show  inductively  that  wherever, 
as  in  organic  aggregates,  the  conditions  permit,  the  integration 
of  matter  and  concomitant  dissipation  of  motion,  which 
'primarily  constitutes  Evolution,  is  attended  by  a  continuous 
change  from  indefinite,  incoherent  homogeneity  to  definite, 
coherent  heterogeneity  of  structure  and  function,  through 
successive  differentiations  and  integrations.  In  illustration  of 
this  statement,  let  us  describe  first,  some  of  the  differentia- 
tions, and  secondly,  some  of  the  integrations,  which  suc- 
cessively occur  during  the  development  of  an  individual 
organism. 

VOL.  L  Z 


333  COSMIO  l'lIILOSOPUY.  [pt.ii. 

Two  centuries  ago  the  researches  of  Ilarvey  on  generation 
established  the  truth  that  every  animal  at  the  ontS6t  consists 

simply  of  a  structureless  and  homogeneous  germ.  Whether 
this  germ  is  detached  from  the  parent  organism  at  each 
generation,  as  in  all  the  higher  animals,  or  only  at  intervals 
of  several  generations,  as  for  example,  in  the  Ajyhidcs  or 
plant-lice,  matters  not  to  the  general  argument.  In  every 
case  the  primitive  state  of  an  animal  is  a  state  of  relative 
homogeneity.  The  fertilized  ovum  of  a  lion,  for  instance, 
possesses  at  first  no  obvious  characteristic  whereby  it  can  be 
distinguished  from  the  fertilized  ovum  of  a  man,  a  dog,  a  parrot, 
or  a  tortoise.  Each  part  of  the  germ-cell  is,  moreover,  as 
nearly  as  possible  like  every  other  part,  in  molecular  texture, 
in  atomic  composition,  in  temperature,  and  in  specific  gravity. 
Here  in  two  ways  we  may  notice  how  homogeneity  is 
eventually  succeeded  by  heterogeneity.  In  the  first  place, 
all  animal  germs  are  homogeneous  with  respect  to  each 
other,  while  the  animals  developed  from  them  present  all 
kinds  and  degrees  of  diversity  ;  and,  in  the  second  place, 
each  germ  is  homogeneous  with  regard  to  itself,  while  the 
creature  developed  from  it  is  extremely  heterogeneous,  The 
vegetable  world  exhibits  a  state  of  things  essentially  the 
same,  though  less  conspicuous  in  its  contrasts. 

Starting  from  the  homogeneous  germ,  we  may  follow  out 
a  parallel  series  of  differentiations,  resulting  respectively  in 
molecular  rearrangements  of  chemical  elements  and  in 
molecular  and  molar  modifications  of  tissues  and  organs. 
The  chemical  differentiations  have  been  so  well  and  so  con- 
cisely described  by  Mr.  Spencer  that  I  cannot  do  better  than 
cite  the  passage  entire : — "  In  plants  the  albuminous  and 
amylaceous  matters  which  form  the  substance  of  the  embryo, 
give  origin  here  to  a  preponderance  of  chlorophyll  and  there 
to  a  preponderance  of  cellulose.  Over  the  parts  that  are 
becoming  leaf-surfaces,  certain  of  the  materials  are  meta- 
morphosed into  wax.     In  this  place  starch  passes  into  one  of 


ch.  iv.]  THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION.  339 

its  isomeric  equivalents,  sugar;  and  in  that  place  into 
another  of  its  isomeric  equivalents,  gum.  By  secondary 
change  some  of  the  cellulose  is  modified  into  wood ;  while 
some  of  it  is  modified  into  the  allied  substance  which,  in 
large  masses,  we  distinguish  as  cork.  And  the  more  numer- 
ous  compounds  thus  gradually  arising,  initiate  further  un- 
likenesses  by  mingling  in  unlike  ratios.  An  animal  ovum, 
the  components  of  which  are  at  first  evenly  diffused  among 
one  another,  chemically  transforms  itself  in  like  manner.  Its 
protein,  its  fats,  its  salts,  become  dissimilarly  proportioned 
in  different  localities  ;  and  multiplication  of  isomeric  forms 
leads  to  further  mixtures  and  combinations  that  constitute 
many  minor  distinctions  of  parts.  Here  a  mass  darkening 
by  accumulation  of  hsematine,  presently  dissolves  into 
blood.  There  fatty  and  albuminous  matters  uniting,  compose 
nerve-tissue.  At  this  spot  the  nitrogenous  substance  takes 
on  the  character  of  cartilage  ;  and  at  that,  calcareous  salts, 
gathering  together  in  the  cartilage,  lay  the  foundation  of 
bone.  All  these  chemical  differentiations  slowly  and  in- 
sensibly become  more  marked  and  more  multiplied."1 

The  differentiations  of  tissues  and  organs  are  equally 
interesting.  In  the  growth  of  any  exogenous  stem,  the 
outer  layer,  or  bark,  first  becomes  distinguished  from  the 
woody  interior.  Then  while  the  bark  gradually  becomes 
differentiated  into  the  liber,  made  up  of  woody  tissue,  the 
green  and  corky  envelopes,  made  up  of  parenchyma,  and  the 
epidermis  ;  the  interior  becomes  differentiated  into  the  pith, 
the  medullary  sheath,  the  woody  layer,  made  up  of  bundles 
of  greatly  elongated  cells,  and  the  medullary  rays,  or  what  is 
called  the  silver  grain  in  maple  and  oak.  Meanwhile 
between  this  heterogeneous  bark  and  the  heterogeneous 
wood  which  it  surrounds  there  appears  a  zone  of  delicate 
cells,  charged  with  dextrine  and  other  assimilable  matter, 
and   known   as    the    cambium   layer.     At  the   same  time 

1  First  Principles,  p.  334. 

z  2 


340  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [it.  II 

differentiations  are  going  on  at  the  upper  extremity  of  this 
complicated    structure.      Portions    of    the    green   envelope 
protrude  from  between  the  liber  and  the  epidermis,  accom- 
panied by  tough  fibres  sent  forth  partly  by  the  liber  and 
partly  by  the  woody  layer.     While  the  green  portions  flatten 
out  horizontally,  the  fibres  ramify  through  them  and  serve  to 
stiffen  them;  and  thus  is  developed  the  leaf,  which,  when 
mature,  usually  exhibits  a  further  differentiation  between 
blade  and  petiole,  while  by  a  continuance  of  the  same  process 
stipules  often  appear  at  the  base  of  the  petiole.     Nor  is  this 
the  end  of  the  story.     For  while  the  chlorophyll-cells  that 
make  up  the  upper  stratum  of  the  leaf-tissue  remain  densely 
crowded,  and  are  often  covered  by  a  wax-like  cuticle,  making 
the  upper  surface  smooth  and  glossy ;  the  cells  composing 
the  lower  stratum  become  less  and  less  crowded,  until  the 
result  is  a  spongy  surface,  filled  with  innumerable  pores, 
through  which  the  moisture  of  the  plant  may  be  exhaled. 
Finally  a  differentiation  arises  between  the  axillary  buds, 
some  of  which  elongate  into  branches,  repeating  the  chief 
characteristics  of  the  stem,  while  others  are  developed  under 
the   still  more  heterogeneous   forms  of  flowers,  with  their 
variously-cleft  calyx  and  corolla,  and  their  variously-com- 
pounded stamens  and  pistils. 

In  the  fertilized  mammalian  ovum  the  earliest  step  toward 
heterogeneity  consists  in  the  division  and  redivision  of  the 
nucleated  embryonic  cell.  As  the  cell-nucleus  grows,  by 
continuous  integration  of  the  nutritious  protoplasm  in  which 
it  is  imbedded,  it  slowly  becomes  grooved,  and  ultimately 
divides  into  a  pair  of  nuclei,  about  each  of  which  is  formed 
a  cell-wall.  This  process  continues  until  the  entire  yolk  is 
absorbed,  by  which  time  it  has  become  differentiated  into  a 
mulberry-like  mass  of  cells.  And  these  cells,  at  first  all 
alike  spherical  or  nearly  so,  become  club-shaped  or  hexagonal 
or  pointed,  as  the  mass  further  consolidates  and  squeezes 
them  together.    A  grand  differentiation  next  occurs  between 


ch.  iv.]  THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION.  341 

the  outer  and  inner  portions  of  the  yolk-mass :  the  outer 
cells  become  flattened  and  pressed  together,  so  as  somewhat 
to  resemble  a  mosaic  pavement,  and  thus  form  a  peripheral 
membrane.  As  this  membrane  continues  to  thicken  by  the 
integration  of  adjacent  materials,  it  differentiates  into  two 
layers,  wrapped  the  one  within  the  other,  like  two  coats  of 
an  onion.  The  outer  layer,  or  ectoderm,  absorbing  larger 
quantities  of  nitrogenous  matter  than  the  other,  is  the  one 
which  by  further  immense  differentiation  is  destined  to 
produce  the  bony,  muscular,  and  nervous  systems ;  while 
the  inner  layer,  or  endoderm,  is  destined  to  produce  the 
digestive  apparatus.  Between  these  two,  by  a  further 
differentiation,  arises  a  vascular  layer,  the  rudiment  of  the 
circulatory  system.  Now  on  the  interior  surface  of  the 
endoderm  appears  a  grooved  channel,  of  which  the  edges 
gradually  rise  and  fold  over  towards  each  other  until  joining 
they  form  a  tube, — the  primitive  alimentary  canal.  At  first 
nearly  uniform,  this  channel  becomes  slowly  more  and  more 
multiform.  Near  the  upper  end  it  bulges  so  as  to  form  a 
stomach,  while  the  long  lower  portion,  variously  wrapped  and 
convoluted,  is  differentiated  into  the  small  and  large  intestines. 
From  various  parts  of  the  now  heterogeneous  canal,  there 
bud  forth  variously-organized  secreting  glands, — those  which 
make  saliva,  and  those  which  make  gastric  juice,  bile-cells, 
pancreatic  cells,  and  intestinal  follicles.  While  from  the 
exterior  coat  of  the  endoderm,  thus  wonderfully  transformed, 
there  shoot  out,  near  the  upper  end,  little  flower-like  buds, 
which  by  and  by  become  lungs.  In  the  intermediate  or 
vascular  layer,  equally  notable  differentiations  simultaneously 
occur.  The  vascular  channels  become  distinguished  as  veins, 
arteries,  and  capillaries.  "  The  heart  begins  as  a  mere 
aggregation  of  cells,  of  which  the  inner  liquefy  to  form  blood, 
while  the  outer  are  transformed  into  the  walls."  Presently 
the  auricle,  or  chamber  which  receives  blood,  is  differentiated 
from  the  ventricle,  or  chamber  which  expels  it ;  and  still  later 


342  COSMIC  rillWaOPUY  [pt.  H. 

a  partition-wall  divides  first  the  ventricle  and  afterwards  the 
auricle  into  two  portions — one  for  the  venous,  the  other  for 
the  arterial  blood.  Along  with  all  these  changes,  parallel 
processes,  too  numerous  to  be  more  than  hinted  at,  are  going 
on  in  the  ectoderm.  Masses  of  nitrogenous  cells  here  give 
rise  to  muscles,  which  ramify  through  the  whole  interior  of 
the  embryo ;  and  there  to  cartilaginous  structures,  in  which 
deposits  of  earthy  phosphate,  hardening  around  certain 
centres,  generate  bone.  The  nervous  system,  first  appearing 
as  a  mere  groove  upon  the  surface  of  the  germinal  membrane, 
finally  exhibits  an  almost  endless  heterogc  ne  ty.  First  there 
is  the  difference  between  grey  and  white  tissue,  of  which  the 
first  generates  the  peculiar  kind  of  molecular  motion  vaguely 
termed  nerve-force,  while  the  latter  transmits  such  motion. 
Then  there  are  the  differences  between  the  nervous  centres 
which,  differently  bundled  together,  make  up  the  cerebrum, 
the  cerebellum,  the  corpora  quadrigemina,  the  medulla 
oblongata,  the  spinal  cord,  and  the  sympathetic  ganglia,  each 
of  which  aggregates  is  extremely  heterogeneous  in  itself. 
And  then  there  are  the  innumerable  differences  entailed 
by  the  highly  complicated  connections  established  between 
one  nervous  centre  and  another,  by  the  inosculations  of 
different  sets  of  nerves  with  each  other,  and  by  the  circum- 
stance that  some  nerves  are  distributed  upon  muscles,  others 
upon  glands,  and  others  upon  ganglia. 

These  must  suffice  as  examples  of  differentiation.  To  go 
on  until  we  had  exhausted  the  series  of  differentiations  which 
attend  the  evolution  of  a  single  individual,  would  be  to  write 
the  entire  history  of  an  organism,  and  thus  to  convert  our 
philosophic  discussion  into  a  special  scientific  monograph. 
That  history  was  long  since  thoroughly  written  by  Von  Baer. 
Following  out  hints  furnished  by  Linnreus,  K.  F.  Wolff, 
Goethe,  and  Schelling,  this  illustrious  embryologist  announced, 
in  1829,  his  great  discovery  that  the  progressive  change 
from  homogeneity  to  heterogeneity  is  the  change  in  which 


dh.  iv.]  THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION.  343 

organic  evolution  essentially  consists.  It  was  this  formula 
which  Mr.  Spencer  began,  some  twenty  years  later,  to  ex« 
tend  into  the  universal  law  of  evolution.  But,  far  from  having 
anticipated  the  essential  portion  of  Mr.  Spencer's  discovery. 
Von  Baer's  formula  stands  in  much  the  same  relation  to  it 
in  which  the  speculations  of  Copernicus  stood  with  reference 
to  the  discovery  of  Newton.  Just  as  Copernicus  was  essen- 
tially in  error  in  maintaining  that  the  planets  revolve  in 
circular  orbits,  Von  Baer  was  essentially  in  error  in  considering 
the  process  of  differentiation  as  the  fundamental  charac- 
teristic of  evolution,  as  well  as  in  ignoring  the  process  of 
integration.  The  whole  foregoing  exposition  has  shown,  and 
the  entire  remainder  of  the  exposition  will  still  further  con- 
vince us,  that  the  fundamental  characteristic  of  evolution  is 
integration  of  matter  with  dissipation  of  internal  motion ; 
and  that  the  change  from  homogeneity  to  heterogeneity  is 
but  the  secondary  rearrangement  which  results  wherever  the 
retained  motion  is  great  enough  to  allow  it. 

Still  more,  in  ignoring  the  process  of  integration,  Von  Baer 
failed  to  include  in  his  formula  that  change  from  indefiniteness 
and  incoherence  to  definiteness  and  coherence,  which  is  equally 
important  with  the  change  from  homogeneity  to  heterogeneity. 
In  the  evolution  of  an  organic  germ,  integration  is  just  as  essen- 
tial a  part  of  the  whole  process  as  differentiation.  If  the  latter 
were  alone  to  take  place,  the  result  would  simply  be  a 
chaotic  medley  of  organs  and  tissues.  Both  operations  are 
requisite  to  produce  a  system  of  organs  capable  of  working 
in  concert.  And  if  differentiation  goes  on,  unattended  by 
integration,  in  any  part  of  the  body,  disease,  and  often  death, 
is  the  result.  Cancers  and  malignant  tumours  are  merely 
indefinite  results  of  differentiation,  which,  never  becoming 
integrated  into  harmony  with  the  rest  of  the  organism,  end 
by  maiming  and  finally  destroying  it.  As  Dr.  Beale  has 
shown,  a  cancer  is  a  new  variety  of  cellular  tissue,  fungoid  in 
character,  which  grows  at  the  expense  of  the  organism,  and 


344  COSMIC  PIIILOSOPn  F.  [pt.  ii. 

cats  it  up  as  effectually  as  a  carnivorous  enemy  could 
eat  it.  To  employ  an  instinctive  metaphor,  a  cancer  is  a 
rebellion  within  the  organism, — a  setting  up  of  an  indepen- 
dent centre  of  government, — a  fatal  iuterference  with  the 
subordination  of  the  parts  to  the  whole.  Yet  the  organism 
in  which  a  cancer  has  begun  to  grow  is  mure  heterogeneous 
than  the  healthy  organism.  In  like  manner  the  first  stages 
of  decomposition  increase  the  heterogeneity  of  the  organism 
as  a  whole ;  but  because  each  new  retrograde  product  follows 
henceforth  a  career  of  its  own,  i'ree  from  the  control  of  the 
organic  aggregate,  the  result  is  not  evolution,  but  dissolution. 
The  differentiations  which  occur  during  tire  normal  growth 
of  the  germ,  differ  from  those  which  constitute  cancer  and 
gangrene,  alike  in  their  common  subordination  to  the  pri- 
mary process  of  growth,  and  in  the  deiiniteness  of  the 
resulting  structures.  "  In  the  mammalian  embryo,  the  heart, 
at  first  a  long  pulsating  blood-vessel,  by  and  by  twists  upon 
itself  and  integrates.  The  bile-cells  constituting  the  rudi- 
mentary liver,  do  not  simply  become  different  from  the  wall 
of  the  intestine  in  which  they  at  first  lie  ;  but  as  they 
accumulate,  they  simultaneously  diverge  from  it,  and  con- 
solidate into  an  organ.  The  anterior  segments  of  the  cerebro- 
spinal axis,  which  are  at  first  continuous  with  the  rest,  and 
distinguished  only  by  their  larger  size,  undergo  a  gradual 
union ;  and  at  the  same  time  the  resulting  head  folds  into  a 
mass  clearly  marked  off  from  the  rest  of  the  vertebral  column. 
The  like  process,  variously  exemplified  in  other  organs,  is 
meanwhile  exhibited  by  the  body  as  a  whole;  which  be- 
comes integrated  somewhat  in  the  same  way  that  an  outspread 
handkerchief  and  its  contents  become  integrated  when  its 
edses  are  drawn  in  and  fastened  to  make  a  bundle."  Mr. 
Spencer,  from  whom  I  have  quoted  this  embryologic  illus- 
tration, goes  on  to  cite  parallel  instances  in  the  development 
of  lower  forms  of  animal  life ;  a  few  of  which  may  be  here 
epitomized.     In  the  growth  of  the  lobster  from  its  embryo,  a 


ch.  iv.]  THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION.  345 

number  of  calcareous  segments,  originally  separable,  become 
integrated  into  the  compact  boxes  which  envelope  the  organs 
of  the  head  and  thorax.  A  similar  concentration  occurs  in 
the  spider,  the  bee,  and  the  butterfly.  In  contrast  with  this, 
we  may  profitably  observe  what  goes  on  in  many  annuloid 
worms,  where  the  multiplication  of  segments  by  differen- 
tiation results  in  the  fission  of  the  animal  into  two  distinct 
individuals,  because  the  integrating  power  of  the  organism  is 
slight.1     Similarly  in  the  development  of  the  higher  crasta- 

1  Here,  without  prejudice  to  the  general  argument,  I  may  call  attention  to 
the  very  ingenious  hypothesis  propounded  by  Mr.  Spencer,  to  account  for  the 
origin  of  the  annulose  or  articulated  sub-kingdom  of  animals.  According  to 
this  hypothesis,  any  annulose  animal  is  in  reality  a  compound  organism,  each 
of  its  segments  representing  what  was  originally  a  distinct  individual.  In 
other  words,  an  annulose  animal  is  a  colony  or  community  of  animals  which 
have  become  integrated  into  an  individual  animal.  Strong  primd  facie 
evidence  of  such  a  linear  joining  of  individuals  primevally  separate  is  furnished 
by  the  structure  of  the  lowest  annelids.  Between  the  successive  segments 
there  is  almost  complete  identity,  both  internal  and  external.  Each  segment 
is  physiologically  an  entire  creature,  possessing  all  the  organs  necessarj'  for 
individual  completeness  of  life  ;  not  only  legs  and  branchiae  of  its  own,  but 
also  its  own  nerve-centres,  its  own  reproductive  organs,  and  frequently  its 
own  pair  of  eyes.  In  many  of  the  intestinal  worms  each  segment  has  an 
entire  reproductive  apparatus,  and  being  hermaphrodite,  constitutes  a  com- 
plete animal.  Moreover  in  the  development  of  the  embryo  the  segments 
grow  from  one  another  by  fission  or  gemmation,  precisely  as  colonies  of  com- 
pound animals  grow.  At  the  outset  the  embryo  annelid  is  composed  of  only 
one  segment.  The  undifferentiated  cells  contained  in  this  segment,  instead 
of  being  all  employed  in  the  formation  of  a  heterogeneous  and  coherent 
structure  within  the  segment,  as  would  be  the  case  in  an  animal  of  higher 
type,  proceed  very  soon  to  form  a  second  segment,  which,  instead  of  separat- 
ing as  a  new  individual,  remains  partially  attached  to  the  first.  This  prjcess 
may  go  on  until  hundreds  of  segments  have  been  formed.  Not  only,  more- 
over, does  spontaneous  fission  occur  in  nearly  all  the  orders  of  the  annulose 
sub-kingdom,  but  it  is  a  familiar  fact  that  artificial  fission  often  results  in  the 
formation  of  two  or  more  independent  animals.  So  self-sufficing  are  the 
parts,  that  when  the  common  earth-worm  is  cut  in  two,  each  half  continues 
its  life  as  a  perfect  worm, — as  is  above  observed,  in  the  text.  Veiy  signifi- 
cant, too,  is  the  fact  that  in  some  genera,  as  in  chsetogaster,  where  the  perfect 
individual  consists  of  three  segments,  there  is  formed  a  fourth  segment, 
which  breaks  off  from  the  rest  and  becomes  a  new  animal. 

All  these  facts,  together  with  many  others  of  like  implication,  point  to  the 
i  »nclusion  that  the  type  of  annulosa  has  arisen  from  the  coalescence,  in  a 
i  near  series,  of  little  spheroidal  animals  primevally  distinct  from  one 
another.  How  are  we  to  explain,  or  classify,  such  a  coalescence  ?  May  we 
not  most  plausibly  classify  it  as  a  case  of  arrested  reproduction  by  spontaneous 
fission  i    In  other  words,   whereas  the  aboriginal  annuloid  had  been  in  the 


346  COSMIC  nilLOSOPHY.  [ft.  n 

ceans,  the  parallel  chains  of  ganglia,  which  constitute  the 
nervous  system  of  the  embryo,  unite  into  a  single  chain. 

haliitof  producing  by  gemmation  a  second  individual  which  separated  itself 
at  a  certain  stage  of  growth,  there  came  a  time  when  such  separation  became 
arrested  before  completion  ;  so  that,  instead  of  a  scries  of  independent  orga- 
nisms, the  result  was  a  colony  of  organisms  linked  together  in  a  linear  chain. 
Let  us  observe  that  by  this  brilliant  explanation  the  origin  of  the  annuloso 
type  is  completely  assimilated  to  the  origin  of  the  lowest  animal  and  vegetal 
types.  The  primordial  type  alike  of  the  vegetable  and  of  the  animal,  is  a 
single  spherical  or  spheroidal  cell,  which  reproduces  itself  by  spontaneous 
fission.  That  is,  it  elongates  until  room  is  made  for  a  second  nucleus,  after 
which  a  notch  appears  in  the  cell-wall  between  the  nuclei  ;  and  this  notch 
deepens  until  the  old  and  new  cells  are  quite  separated  from  each  other. 
Now  when  many  such  primordial  cells  are  enclosed  in  a  common  membrane, 
so  that,  instead  of  achieving  a  complete  separation,  they  multiply  into  a 
jelly-like  or  mulberry-like  mass,  there  is  formed — whether  the  case  be 
taken  in  the  animal  or  in  the  vegetal  kingdom — an  organism  of  a  type  con- 
siderably higher  than  the  simple  cell.  There  is  an  opportunity  for  differently 
conditioned  cells  comprised  in  the  same  mass  to  become  ditferently  modified, 
and  thus  to  subserve  various  functions  in  the  economy  of  the  organism. 
There  is  a  chance  for  division  and  combination  of  labour  among  the  parts. 
Now  the  progress  achieved  when  the  spheroidal  members  of  an  annuloid 
compound  remain  partly  connected,  instead  of  separating,  is  precisely  similar 
to  this.  Among  the  indubitably  compound  animals  of  coelenterate  or  mol- 
luscoid  type,  in  which  the  fission  is  not  arrested,  it  is  but  seldom  that  the 
individuals  stand  related  to  one  another  in  such  a  way  that  there  can  be  any 
need  of  their  severally  performing  diverse  and  specialized  functions.  For 
instance,  among  the  hydrozoa,  each  member  of  the  compound  can  get  food 
for  itself,  can  expand  or  contract  its  tentacles  in  anyway  without  affecting 
the  general  welfare  of  the  compound.  But  now,  if  the  members  of  such  a 
compound  as  the  hypothetical  primitive  annuloid  are  grouped  in  a  linear 
series,  there  must  arise  a  difference  between  the  conditions  which  affect  the 
extreme  members  of  the  series,  and  the  conditions  which  affect  the 
intermediate  members.  And  consequently  there  will  ensue  an  advantage  to 
the  compound  in  the  struggle  for  life,  if  the  members,  instead  of  continuing 
to  perform  identical  functions  separately,  become  sufficiently  united  to  allow  of 
their  performing  different  functions  in  concert.  Hence  we  obtain  the  lowest 
actual  type  of  annuloid,  in  which  the  segments  are  mere  repetitions  of  each 
other,  with  the  exception  of  the  extreme  front  and  rear  segments,  which 
subserve  different  tunctioiis  related  to  the  welfare  of  the  aggregate. 

Viewed  in  this  light,  the  various  great  classes  of  the  annulose  sub-kingdom 
beautifully  illustrate  that  progressive  coordination  of  parts  becoming  more 
and  more  unlike  one  another,  which  is  the  chief  characteristic  of  Evolution 
as  displayed  in  the  organic  world.  In  very  low  annelids,  such  as  the  intes- 
tinal worms,  we  see  hardly  any  specialization  among  the  parts  ;  and  as  we 
proceed  upwards  through  tne  lower  types,  ending  with  the  myriapoda,  we 
meet  with  a  great  but  varying  number  of  segments,  which  show  but  little 
specialization  save  in  the  head  and  tail.  The  same  is  true  in  general  of  the 
larvas  and  caterpillars  of  the  higher  types.  But  as  we  rise  to  the  adult  forms 
of  the  insect-group — comprising  crustaceans,  arachnoids,  and  true  insects — 
we  find  the  number  of  segments  reduced  to  just  twenty.  And  while  thij 
number  remains  unvarying,  the  niodiiications  undergone  by  diffeient  seg 


ch.  iv.  THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION.  347 

The  same  kind  of  integration  may  be  traced  in  the  nervous 
systems  of  insects  ;  and  the  reproductive  system  of  the  verte- 
brata  furnishes  like  instances  of  coalescence  which  are  so 
conspicuous  that  they  are  now  usually  made  one  of  the 
primary  bases  of  classification  in  this  sub-kingdom.  The 
reason  why  Von  Baer  overlooked  this  essential  process,  is  pro- 
bably to  be  found  in  the  fact  that  each  secondary  integration, 
resulting  in  increased  definiteness,  serves  to  make  the  accom- 
panying differentiation  still  more  prominent.  The  differen- 
tiation of  lungs,  for  instance,  from  the  outer  coat  of  the 
endoderm,  becomes  marked  in  proportion  as  the  flower-like 
buds  become  integrated  into  organs  of  definite  contour.  But 
while  the  two  correlative  processes  go  on  hand  in  hand,  it 
is  none  the  less  true  that  they  are  distinct  processes,  and 
that  a  comprehensive  formula  of  evolution  must  explicitly 
describe  them  both. 

In  further  illustration  of  this  twofold  aspect  of  evolution, 
we  may  cite  a  fact  which  will  by  and  by  be  seen  to  have 
other  important  bearings,  but  which  may  here  serve  as  a 
valuable  appendix  to  the  foregoing  discussion.  This  is  the 
fact  that,  in  ranking  different  organisms  as  high  or  low  in 
the  scale  of  life,  we  always  proceed  chiefly  with  reference  to 
the  degree  of  heterogeneity,  definiteness,  and  coherence  which 
they  exhibit.  Those  plants  and  animals  which  we  rank  as 
lowest  in  the  scale  are  simply  cells,  like  the  homogeneous 
cells  from  which  higher  plants  and  animals  are  developed. 
So  little  specialized  are  these  forms  that  they  do  not  exhibit 
even  those  characteristics  by  which  we  ordinarily  distinguish 

raents  in  conformity  to  the  requirements  of  the  aggregate  are  almost  endless 
in  variety,  the  extremes,  hoth  of  concentration  and  of  specialization,  being 
seen  in  the  ant,  the  spider,  and  the  crab.  In  many  of  the  details  of  this 
gradual  fusion  of  distinct  individuals  into  a  coherent  whole,  we  see  the  hypo- 
thesis interestingly  illustrated  and  justified.  In  the  annelids  of  low  type, 
each  segment  has  its  own  spiracles  which  have  no  internal  communication 
with  one  another.  On  the  other  hand,  in  the  insect-group  there  is  a  com- 
plete system  of  vessels  connecting  the  respiratory  systems.  While  in  the 
intermediate  niyriapoda  we  find,  as  might  be  expected,  a  partial  commuui* 
cation. 


348  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [rr.  11. 

between  vegetal  and  animal  life.  As  we  ascend  the  vegetal 
scale,  we  find  the  ferns  and  lichens  decidedly  more  hetero- 
geneous than  the  alg?e  ;  and  as  we  meet  with  endogens  and 
exogens,  we  find  the  increasing  heterogeneity  accompanied 
by  a  definiteness  and  coherence  of  structure  that  is  ever 
more  and  more  conspicuous.  Going  up  the  animal  scale,  we 
find  the  annulosa,  on  the  whole,  much  more  heterogeneous, 
definite,  and  coherent  than  the  mollusca ;  while  the  verte- 
brata,  on  the  whole,  exhibit  these  characteristics  more  strik- 
ingly than  either  of  tire  other  sub-kingdoms.  The  relatively 
homogeneous  and  unintegrated  polyps  are  ranked  below  all 
of  these.  Within  each  group  the  same  principle  of  classifi- 
cation is  universally  followed.  Contrast  the  centipede, 
whose  multitudinous  segments  are  almost  literally  copies  of 
each  other,  or  the  earth-worm,  which  may  be  severed  in  the 
middle  and  yet  live,  with  the  highly  differentiated  and  inte- 
grated hive-bee,  spider,  or  crab.  Compare  the  definite  and 
symmetrical  contour  of  the  cuttlefish,  which  is  the  highest 
of  the  mollusca,  with  the  unshapely  outline  of  the  mollus- 
coid  ascidians.  Or,  to  cite  cases  from  the  two  extremes  of 
the  animal  scale,  consider  first  the  complicated  mammal, 
whose  growth  from  the  embryo  we  have  lately  contemplated  ; 
and  then  turn  to  the  hydra,  or  freshwater  polyp,  which  is  a 
mere  bag  of  organized  matter,  digesting  with  its  inner  surface 
and  respiring  with  the  outer, — yet  so  little  specialized  that, 
if  turned  inside  out,  the  digestive  surface  will  begin  to 
respire,  and  the  respirative  surface  to  digest,  as  imperturb- 
ably  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  In  short,  in  a  survey  of 
the  whole  organic  world,  progress  from  lower  to  higher  forms 
is  a  progress  from  forms  which  are  less,  to  forms  which  are 
more,  differentiated  and  integrated. 

One  further  point  must  be  noticed  before  we  conclude  this 
preliminary  sketch  of  the  process  of  evolution.  The  illus- 
trations above  given  refer  almost  exclusively  to  differentia- 
tions and  integrations  of  structure,  or,   in  other  words,  to 


ch.  -v.]  THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION.  349 

rearrangements  of  the  matter  of  which  organic  "bodies  are 
composed.     It  remains  to  be  shown  how  the  rearrangements 
of  the  motion  retained  by  developing  organisms  exhibit  the 
same  characteristics,  and  manifest  themselves  as  differentia- 
tions and  integrations  of  function.     All  organic  functions  are 
either  molar  motions  of  contractile  muscles,  or  of  circulatory 
fluids,  or  else  they  are  molecular  motions  in  nerves,  or  in 
secreting  organs,  or  in  assimilative  tissues  in  general.     To 
show  how  these  various  motions  become  more  specialized 
and  more  consolidated  as  the  organism  is  developed,  let  us 
briefly  reconsider  the  case  of  the  alimentary  canal,  whose 
structural  modifications  were  lately  described.    The  primitive 
alimentary  canal  exhibits  from  end  to  end  a  tolerably  uni- 
form series  of  molar  motions  of  constriction.     But  as  the 
canal  becomes  more  heterogeneous,  the  molar  movements  in 
its  different  parts  simultaneously  become  more  unlike  one 
another.     While   the  waves   of  contraction   and   expansion 
remain   constant   and   moderate   throughout   the    small   in- 
testine, they  are  replaced  in  the  oesophagus  by  more  violent 
contractions  and  expansions  that  recur  at  longer  rhythmical 
intervals.     In  the  stomach  the  mechanical  undulations  are 
so  much  more  powerful  as  to  triturate  the  contained  food, 
and  their  rhythms  are  differently  compounded  ;  while  the 
movements  of  the  mouth  are  still  further  specialized  in  the 
actions  of  biting  and  chewing.     In  the  molecular  motions 
constituting   secretion   and   absorption   there    is    a    similar 
'  penalization.     While  absorption  is  confined  chiefly  to  the 
area   covered   by   the   lacteals,   secretion   is   specialized   in 
various  localities — in  the  salivary  glands,  in  the  gastric  and 
intestinal  follicles,  in  the  liver,  and  in  the  pancreas — and  in 
each  place   it  has  acquired   a  peculiar  character.     A   like 
increase  in  heterogeneity  and  definiteness  marks  the  circu- 
latory movements.     In  a  slightly-evolved  animal  the  nutri- 
tive fluid,  answering  to  blood,  moves  about  here  and  there  at 
seeming  random,  its  course  being  mainly  determined  by  the 


350  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  n. 

local  pressure  of  the  tissues.  But  in  a  highly-evolved 
animal,  which  possesses  a  well-developed  vascular  system, 
the  blood  runs  in  definite  channels,  and  with  well-marked 
differences  of  movement.  Its  movement  is  slow  and  con- 
tinuous in  the  capillaries,  fast  and  continuous  in  the  veins, 
still  faster  but  discontinuous  in  the  arteries ;  while  the 
rhythms  in  all  are  subordinated  by  the  central  rhythm  of 
the  heart.  Still  more  remarkable,  in  the  most  complex 
organisms,  is  that  kind  of  functional  integration  which 
consists  in  the  mutual  dependence  of  different  functions. 
Neither  alimentation  nor  circulation  nor  respiration  can  go 
on  alone ;  and  all  three  are  dependent  upon  the  continuance 
of  nervous  action,  which  in  turn  depends  alike  upon  each  of 
the  three.  A  few  whiffs  of  tobacco,  for  example,  setting  up 
slight  molecular  changes  in  the  medulla  oblongata,  increase 
the  heart's  rate  of  pulsation,  and  stimulate  every  one  of  the 
alimentary  secretions,  while  it  is  probable  also  that,  through 
the  medium  of  the  sympathetic  ganglia,  the  sectional  area 
of  every  artery  is  slightly  altered.  The  cautious  physician, 
in  prescribing  a  powerful  drug,  knows  that  he  is  dealing  with 
an  integration  of  motions  so  extensive  that  the  disturbance 
of  any  one  will  alter  the  directions  and  composition  of  all 
the  others  to  a  degree  which  baffles  accurate  calculation. 
Contrasting  with  such  cases  as  these  the  homogeneous,  inde- 
finite and  uncombined  movements  of  those  lowest  animals, 
that  are  borne  hither  and  thither  by  the  vibrations  of  cilia, 
it  becomes  evident  that  the  formula  which  expresses  the 
structural  evolution  of  matter,  expresses  also  the  functional 
evolution  of  the  motion  which  the  integrating  matter 
retains. 

Embracing  now  in  one  general  view  the  various  kinds  of 
transformation  exemplified  in  the  present  chapter,  we  find 
that  our  survey  of  organic  development  completely  justifies 
Mr.  Spencer's  technical  statement : — "  Evolution  is  an  inte- 
gration of  matter   and   concomitant   dissipation  of  motion, 


ch.  iv.]  TEE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION.  351 

during  which  the  matter  passes  from  an  indefinite,  incoherent 
homogeneity  to  a  definite,  coherent  heterogeneity ;  and  during 
which  the  retained  motion  undergoes  a  parallel  trans- 
formation." x 

Here,  it  will  be  observed,  we  have  obtained  a  formula 
which  applies  not  to  organic  development  merely,  but  to 
the  transformations  of  Matter  and  Motion  in  general. 
Though  we  have  been  led  to  it  solely  by  the  consideration 
of  those  organic  phenomena  which,  for  reasons  already 
presented,  most  conspicuously  exemplify  it,  and  in  con- 
nection with  which  it  was  first  partially  generalized  by 
Goethe  and  Von  Baer ;  yet  now  that  we  have  arrived  at  this 
formula,  we  find  ourselves  expressing  it  in  terms  that  are 
universal.  Instead  of  a  mere  law  of  biology,  we  have 
enunciated  the  widest  generalization  that  has  yet  been 
reached  concerning  the  concrete  universe  as  a  whole. 
Having  ascertained  that  in  organic  aggregates,  where  the 
conditions  are  such  as  to  allow  of  relatively  permanent 
structural  rearrangements,  the  process  of  Evolution  is  cha- 
racterized by  a  change  from  indeterminate  uniformity  to 
determinate  multiformity,  we  have  assumed  that  like  con- 
ditions will  everywhere  be  attended  with  like  results.  The 
law  asserts  that  wherever  a  relatively  permanent  system  of 
rearrangements  is  possible,  whether  in  organic  or  in  in- 
organic aggregates,  the  change  from  indeterminate  uniformity 
to  determinate  multiformity  will  be  manifested.  This  leap  of 
inference  on  Mr.  Spencer's  part,  like  the  similar  leap  taken 
by  Newton  from  the  fall  of  the  apple  to  the  motions  of  the 
moon,  is  the  daring  act  which  completes  the  formation  of 
the  hypothesis.  This  grand  hypothesis  we  must  now  proceed 
to  verify  by  showing  that  the  widest  generalizations  severally 
obtainable  in  the  concrete  sciences  are  included  in  it,  and 
receive  from  it  their  common  interpretation.  It  is  to  be 
shown  that  in  the  case  of  sundry  inorganic  aggregates  or 
1  First  Principles,  p.  396. 


352  cosmic  puiLosornr.  [w.  u. 

systems  of  parts  (forming  the  subject-matter  of  astronomy 
and  geology),  where  circumstances  not  yet  recounted  permit 
the  retention  of  a  considerable  relative  motion  of  parts,  the 
processes  of  differentiation  and  integration  are  quite  con- 
spicuously manifested ;  although,  as  "we  might  expect,  these 
processes  are  never  carried  so  far  here  as  in  the  case  of 
organic  aggregates.  It  will  next  be  shown  that  the  hypo- 
thesis is  verified,  alike  by  the  scanty  facts  which  are  at  our 
disposal  concerning  the  genesis  of  Life,  and  by  the  enormous 
multitude  of  facts  which  prove  beyond  the  possibility  of 
doubt  that  the  more  complex  living  creatures  have  ori- 
ginated by  physical  derivation  from  ancestral  creatures  that 
were  less  complex.  Next,  although — as  I  have  already 
remarked — the  phenomena  of  Mind  are  in  no  sense  identi- 
fiable with  material  phenomena,  yet  as  in  all  our  experience 
there  is  no  manifestation  of  Mind  which  is  not  mysteriously 
conditioned  by  movements  of  matter,  we  shall  find  that 
these  super-organic  phenomena  do  not  fail  to  conform  to  the 
universal  law.  It  will  be  shown  that  the  development  of 
conscious  intelligence,  alike  in  the  individual  and  in  the  race, 
is  characterized  by  the  change  from  indeterminate  uniformity 
to  determinate  multiformity.  The  history  of  the  products  of 
conscious  intelligence  exemplify  the  same  principle ;  and 
nowhere  shall  we  find  more  striking  confirmation  than  is 
furnished  by  the  phenomena  of  social  progress.  By  the  time 
we  have  narrated  the  results  of  this  vast  induction,  we  shall  be 
convinced  that  "  from  the  earliest  traceable  cosmical  changes 
down  to  the  latest  products  of  civilization,"  the  law  of 
organic  evolution  here  expounded  is  the  law  of  all  evolution 
whatever. 

But  the  universality  of  this  law  admits  of  deductive  proof, 
which  may  properly  be  adduced  while  concluding  this  chapter, 
and  before  entering  upon  the  long  course  of  inductive  veri- 
fication which  comes  next  in  order.  Already  we  have  seen 
that  the  changes  which  primarily  constitute  Evolution  are 


ch.  iv.]  THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION.  353 

necessitated  by  the  rhythm  of  motion,  and  therefore  in- 
directly by  the  persistence  of  force.  We  have  now  to  show 
how  the  secondary  changes,  differentiation  and  integration, 
are  equally  necessitated  by  the  same  primordial  fact. 

It  is  a  corollary  from  the  persistence  of  force,  "that,  in 
the  actions  and  reactions  of  force  and  matter,  an  unlikenesb 
in  either  of  the  factors  necessitates  an  unlikeness  in  the 
effects."  When  the  different  portions  of  any  homogeneous 
aggregate  are  exposed  to  the  action  of  unlike  forces,  or  to 
unequal  intensities  of  the  same  force,  they  are  of  necessity 
differently  affected  thereby.  Between  the  unequally  exposed 
parts  there  arise  structural  differences,  entailing  differences 
of  property  and  function.  That  which  before  was  homo- 
geneous has  become  heterogeneous  through  the  appearance 
of  certain  unlikenesses ;  and,  under  the  name  of  differentia- 
tion, the  rise  of  such  unlikenesses  has  already  been  described. 
It  remains  to  be  observed  that  such  unlikenesses  cannot  but 
arise,  that  differentiation  must  needs  take  place,  because  it  is 
impossible  for  all  the  parts  of  any  aggregate  to  be  similarly 
conditioned  with  reference  to  any  incident  force.  Whether 
it  be  the  mechanical  vibrations  caused  by  a  blow,  the  slow 
undulations  constituting  heat,  or  the  more  rapid  undulations 
constituting  light,  that  are  propagated  through  any  body,  it 
equally  follows  that  the  respective  vibrations  will  be  com- 
municated in  different  degrees  to  those  particles  which  are 
situated  on  the  nearer  and  on  the  farther  side  of  the  body, 
and  to  those  particles  which  are  laterally  near  to  or  remote 
from  the  line  followed  by  the  incident  force.  The  different 
parts  will  be  variously  moved,  heated,  or  chemically  affected, 
and  a  series  of  differentiations  will  thus  have  arisen.  We 
need  go  no  farther  than  the  kitchen,  to  perceive  that  the 
crust  formed  on  a  loaf  of  bread  or  a  joint  of  roasted  meat,  is 
due  to  the  necessarily  unequal  exposure  of  outside  and  inside 
to  the  incident  force  coming  in  the  shape  of  heat  from  the 
walls  of  the  oven.      In  the  impossibility  of  balancing  an 

VOL.  i.  A  A 


354  COSMIC  MILOSOrilY.  [it.  ti. 

accurately  made  pair  of  scales,  in  the  equal  impossibility  of 

keeping  a  tank  of  water  free  from  currents,  in  the  rusting  of 
iron,  and  in  the  uneven  cooling  of  a  heated  metal,  is  exem- 
plified the  principle  that  the  state  of  homogeneity  is  an 
unstable  state.  Universally  the  tendency  of  things,  amid 
the  conflict  of  unlike  forces,  is  toward  heterogeneity. 

Coincident  with  the  differentiation  of  aggregates,  there  is 
a  differentiation  of  the  incident  forces.  AVhen  a  moving 
hody  is  broken  up  by  collision,  its  original  momentum  is 
severed  into  a  group  of  momenta,  which  differ  both  in  amount 
and  in  direction.  The  ray  of  solar  light  which  falls  upon 
the  foliage  of  a  tree  and  upon  the  wall  of  the  brick  building 
behind  it  is  separated  by  reflection  into  red  and  green 
rays,  in  which  the  undulations  differ  both  in  height  and  in 
breadth.  Each  portion  of  the  differentiated  force  must  in  its 
turn  enter  as  a  factor  into  new  differentiations.  The  more 
heterogeneous  an  aggregate  becomes  the  more  rapidly  must 
differentiation  go  on  ;  because  each  of  its  component  units 
may  be  considered  as  a  whole,  bearing  relations  to  the  other 
units  similar  to  those  which  the  aggregate  bears  to  other 
nggregates  ;  and  thus  the  differentiation  of  the  whole  must 
be  followed  by  the  differentiation  of  the  parts.  There  must 
thus  be  a  multiplication  of  effects  as  heterogeneity  increases  ; 
because,  with  increasing  heterogeneity,  the  forces  which 
bodies  and  parts  of  bodies  mutually  exert  upon  each  other 
must  become  ever  more  varied  and  complex  in  their  amounts 
and  directions. 

We  may  see,  therefore,  that  differentiation  is  a  necessary 
consequence  of  the  fundamental  relations  of  matter  and 
motion.  And  the  same  is  true  of  that  secondary  integration 
or  union  of  like  units,  which  serves  to  render  differentiation 
more  conspicuous  by  substituting  a  demarcated  grouping  for 
a  vague  one.  Considering  what  happens  when  a  handful  of 
pounded  sugar,  scattered  before  the  breeze,  falls  here  and 
there  according  to  the  respective  sizes  of  the  fragments, — we 
perceive  that  the  units  which  descend  in  company  are  those 


ch.  iv.]  THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION.  355 

of  equal  size,  and  that  their  segregation  results  from  their 
like  relations  to  the  incident  force.  The  integration  of  several 
spinal  vertebrae  into  a  sacrum,  as  the  result  of  exposure  to  a 
continuous  strain  in  the  same  direction,  is  a  still  better 
example  ;  and  from  the  phenomena  of  morphological  develop- 
ment many  parallel  cases  might  be  cited.  Wherever  dif- 
ferent (jarts  of  any  group  of  units  stand  in  different  relations 
to  an  Incident  force,  differentiation  must  result ;  and  wher- 
ever any  sub-group  of  these  units,  after  becoming  unlike  the 
rest,  is  acted  on  by  a  common  force,  the  result  must  be 
the  integration  of  the  sub-group.  But  manifestly  the  pri- 
mary process  of  consolidation  cannot  long  go  on  in  any 
aggregate,  without  bringing  sundry  groups  of  units  into 
dissimilar  relations  to  adjacent  groups ;  nor  can  it  long  go  on 
without  subjecting  each  group,  thus  differentiated,  to  a  pre- 
dominant force  exerted  by  the  totality  of  the  companion- 
groups.  Hence  the  change  from  indefinite  incoherent  homo- 
geneity to  definite  coherent  heterogeneity  must  accompany 
the  integration  of  matter ;  and  no  alternative  conclusion  can 
be  reached  without  denying  the  persistence  of  force. 

I  am  aware  that  scanty  justice  is  here  done  to  the  argu- 
ments by  which,  in  three  interesting  chapters,  Mr.  Spencer 
establishes  this  deductive  conclusion.  But  since  the  brief 
exposition  here  given  is  not  intended  as  a  substitute  for  the 
study  of  Mr.  Spencer's  treatise,  but  rather  as  a  commentary 
upon  it,  his  position  has  been  perhaps  sufficiently  indicated. 

We  are  now  prepared  to  study  with  profit  some  of  the 
phenomena  presented  by  the  past  history  of  our  planetary 
system.  In  the  evolution  of  the  sun,  with  his  attendant 
planets  and  satellites,  from  a  vast  primeval  mass  of  vapour, 
we  shall  be  called  upon  to  witness  a  grand  illustration  not 
only  of  that  integration  of  matter  and  concomitant  dissipation 
of  motion  which  is  the  fundamental  characteristic  of  Evo- 
lution in  general,  but  also  of  that  change  from  indefinite 
and  incoherent  homogeneity  to  definite  and  coherent  hetero- 
geneity which  is  its  most  striking  derivative  feature. 

A    A    2 


CHAPTER  V. 

PLANETARY    EVOLUTION. 

Among?  the  notable  phenomena  presented  by  the  structure 
of  onr  planetary  system,  there  are  some  which  have  become 
so  familiar  to  us  that  we  commonly  overlook  them  altogether, 
and  through  sheer  inattentiveness  fail  to  realize  their  signifi- 
cance. For  example,  all  the  planets  revolve  about  the  sun 
in  the  same  direction,  which  coincides  with  the  direction  of 
the  sun's  own  rotation  upon  his  axis.  All  the  planets,  more- 
over, revolve  in  planes  which  are  but  slightly  inclined  to  the 
plane  of  the  sun's  equator.  Satellites  conduct  themselves 
similarly  with  reference  to  their  primaries.  Every  satellite 
revolves  about  its  primary  in  the  direction  of  the  primary's 
axial  rotation,  and  in  a  plane  but  little  inclined  to  the  plane  of 
the  primary's  equator.  Again,  with  the  single  interesting 
exception  of  Uranus— and  possibly  also  of  Neptune — all 
the  planets,  as  well  as  the  sun,  rotate  upon  their  axes  from 
west  to  east,  in  the  same  direction  with  their  orbital 
revolutions.  And  lastly,  all  the  planets,  both  primary  and 
secondary,  move  in  elliptical  orbits  of  small  or  moderate 
eccentricity. 

We  are  so  accustomed  to  acquiesce  in  these  facts,  as  if 
they  were  ultimate,  that  we  seldom  stop  to  consider  them 
in  their  true  light,  as  unimpeachable  witnesses  to  the  past 


ch.v.]  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION*  357 

history  of  the  solar  system.  Yet  as  Laplace  has  shown,  it* 
is  practically  impossible  that  such  harmonious  relations 
should  hold  between  the  various  members  of  the  solar 
system,  unless  those  members  have  had  a  common  origin. 

The  clue  to  that  common  origin  may  be  sought  in  facts 
which  are  daily  occurring  before  our  very  eyes.  Every 
member  of  our  planetary  system  is  constantly  parting  with 
molecular  motion  in  the  shape  of  heat.  Our  earth  is 
incessantly  pouring  out  heat  into  surrounding  space ;  and, 
although  the  loss  is  temporarily  made  good  by  solar  radia- 
tion, it  is  not  permanently  made  good, — as  is  proved  by  the 
fact  that  during  many  millions  of  years  the  earth  has  been 
slowly  cooling.  I  do  not  refer  to  the  often-cited  fact  that 
the  Arctic  regions  were  once  warm  enough  to  maintain  a 
tropical  vegetation ;  for  this  high  temperature  may  well  have 
been  due  to  minor  causes,  such  as  the  greater  absorptive 
power  of  the  ancient  atmosphere  with  its  higher  percentage 
of  carbonic  acid  and  ozone.  Nor  need  we  insist  upon  the 
alleged  fact  that  extensive  glaciation  appears  to  have  been 
unknown  until  a  comparatively  late  epoch  ;  although  glacia- 
tion, whether  brought  about  by  changes  in  the  distribution 
of  land  and  sea  or  by  a  variation  in  the  eccentricity  of  the 
earth's  orbit,  certainly  does  seem  to  imply  a  progressive 
dependence  of  the  earth  upon  the  supply  of  solar  heat,  due  to 
the  lowering  of  its  own  proper  temperature.  Such  facts, 
however,  are  wholly  inadequate  to  describe  the  primitive 
heat  of  the  earth.  The  flattening  of  the  poles  being  con- 
siderably greater  than  could  have  been  produced  by  the 
rotation  of  a  globe  originally  solid  on  the  surface,  it  follows 
that  the  whole  earth  was  formerly  fluid.  And  this  conclu- 
sion, established  by  dynamical  principles,  is  uniformly 
corroborated  by  the  observed  facts  of  geology.  Now  the 
fluidity  of  the  entire  earth,  with  its  rocks  and  metals, 
implies  a  heat  sufficient  to  have  kept  the  planet  incandescent, 
Bo  that  it  must  have  shone  with  light  of  its  own,  like  the 


358  COSMIC  rillLOSOrilY.  [pt.  il 

Btars.  Similar  conclusions  are  indicated  by  the  observed 
geologic  features  of  Mars  and  Venus  ;  and  in  the  case  of  the 
moon  we  shall  presently  see  what  a  prodigious  loss  of  heat 
is  implied  by  the  fact  that  the  forces  which  once  upheaved 
its  great  volcanoes  are  now  quiescent.  The  sun,  too,  is 
pouring  away  heat  at  such  a  rate  that,  according  to  Sir  John 
Herschel,  if  a  cylinder  of  ice  184,000  miles  in  length  and 
45  miles  in  diameter  were  darted  into  the  sun  every  second, 
it  would  be  melted  as  fast  as  it  came.  Or,  as  Mayer  has 
calculated,  the  amount  of  heat  lost  every  minute  by  the  sun 
would  suffice  to  raise  the  temperature  of  thirteen  billion 
cubic  miles  of  water  one  degree  Centigrade.  Although  this 
prodigious  loss  is  perhaps  partly  compensated  by  heat  due 
to  the  arrested  motion  of  meteors  falling  upon  the  sun's 
surface,  yet  it  is  by  no  means  probable  that  it  is  in  this  way 
compensated  to  any  noteworthy  extent.  It  is  in  every  way 
indisputable  that  from  time  immemorial  sun,  moon,  and 
earth,  as  well  as  the  other  members  of  our  system,  have 
been  parting  with  their  internal  motion,  in  the  shape  of  heat 
radiated  into  surrounding  space. 

Thus  in  the  history  of  our  planetary  system  we  may 
already  begin  to  witness  that  dissipation  of  motion  which 
has  been  shown  to  be  one  of  the  prime  features  of  the  process 
of  Evolution,  wherever  exemplified.  But,  as  we  have  also 
seen,  the  dissipation  of  motion  is  always  and  necessarily 
accompanied  by  the  concentration  of  matter.  It  is  not 
simply  that,  with  two  or  three  apparent  exceptions,  which 
have  no  bearing  upon  the  present  argument,  all  cooling 
bodies  diminish  in  size  and  increase  in  density ;  but  it  is 
also  that  all  contracting  bodies  generate  heat,  the  loss  of 
which,  by  radiation,  allows  the  process  of  contraction  to 
continue.  In  any  contracting  mass  the  particles  which  tend 
toward  the  common  centre  have  their  molar  motions  con- 
stantly opposed  by  friction  upon  each  other,  and  most  of  the 
motion  thus  arrested  is  converted  into  heat.     If  this  heat  ia 


ch.  v.]  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION.  359 

lost  by  radiation  as  fast  as  it  is  thus  generated,  the  contrac- 
tion of  the  mass  will  go  on  unceasingly.  It  is  in  this  way 
that  physicists  now  account  for  the  internal  heat  of  the  sun 
and  the  planets.  A  diminution  of  the  sun's  diameter  by 
the  amount  of  twenty  miles  could  not  be  detected  by  the 
finest  existing  instruments  ;  yet  the  arrest  of  motion  implied 
in  this  slight  contraction  would  generate  enough  heat  to 
maintain  the  present  prodigious  supply  during  fifty  centuries. 
And  in  similar  wise  the  internal  heat  of  the  earth  during  a 
given  moment  or  epoch  must  be  chiefly  due  to  that  very 
contraction  which  the  radiation  of  its  heat  during  the 
preceding  moment  or  epoch  has  entailed. 

The  generation  of  all  this  heat,  therefore,  which  sun  and 
planets  have  from  time  immemorial  been  losing,  implies  the 
transformation  of  an  enormous  quantity  of  molar  motion  of 
contraction.  It  implies  that  from  time  immemorial  the 
various  members  of  our  planetary  system  have  all  been 
decreasing  in  volume  and  increasing  in  density  ;  so  that  the 
farther  back  in  time  we  go,  the  larger  and  less  solid  must  we 
suppose  them  to  have  been.  This  is  an  inevitable  corollary 
from  the  companion  laws  that  contracting  bodies  evolve  heat, 
and  that  radiating  bodies  contract. 

Obviously,  therefore,  if  we  were  to  go  back  far  enough,  we 
should  find  the  earth  filling  the  moon's  orbit,1  so  that  the 
matter  now  composing  the  moon  would  then  have  formed  a 
part  of  the  equatorial  zone  of  the  earth.  At  a  period  still 
more  remote,  the  earth  itself  must  have  formed  a  tiny  portion 
of  the  equatorial  zone  of  the  sun,  which  then  filled  the 
earth's  orbit.  At  a  still  earlier  date,  the  entire  solar  system 
must  have  consisted  simply  of  the  sun,  which,  more  than 

1  It  is  not  presumed,  however,  that  the  moon's  orbit  was  originally  so  large 
us  at  present.  For  by  its  tidal  action  upon  our  oceans  the  moun  exerts  a  drag 
apon  the  earth's  rotation,  and  the  motion  thus  lost  by  the  earth  is  added  to 
the  moon's  tangential  momentum,  thus  increasing  the  dimensions  of  its  orbit. 
A  precisely  similar  (jualiiication  is  needed  for  the  two  next-succeeding  state- 
ments in  the  text. 


SCO  COSMIC  FJIILOSOPJ1 Y.  [pt.  il 

filling  Neptune's  orbit,  must  have  consisted  of  diffused 
vaporous  matter,  like  that  of  which  the  irresolvable  nebulte 
have  recently  been  proved  to  consist.  Now  in  the  slow 
concentration  of  the  matter  constituting  this  solar  nebula, 
as  both  Kant  and  Laplace  have  elaborately  proved,  the 
most  prominent  peculiarities  of  the  solar  system  find  their 
complete  explanation.  Supposing  the  sun  to  have  been 
once  a  mass  of  nebulous  vapour,  extending  in  every 
direction  far  beyond  the  present  limits  of  the  solar  system, 
these  thinkers  proved  that  the  mere  contraction  of  such 
a  mass  must  inevitably  have  brought  about  just  the 
state  of  things  which  we  now  find.  Let  us  observe  some 
of  the  processes  which  must  have  taken  place  in  this 
nebulous  mass. 

Note  first  that  we  are  obliged  to  accredit  the  various  parts 
of  this  genetic  nebula  with  motions  bearing  some  reference  to 
a  common  centre  of  gravity ;  for  the  rotation  of  the  resulting 
system  must  have  had  an  equivalent  amount  of  motion  for 
its  antecedent,  and  it  is  a  well-known  theorem  of  mechanics 
that  no  system  of  bodies  can  acquire  a  primordial  rotation 
merely  from  the  interaction  of  its  own  parts.     In  making 
this  assumption,  however,  we  are  simply  carrying  out  the 
principle  of  the  continuity  of  motion.    It  is  not  necessary  to 
suppose,  in  addition,  that  all  these  motions  primordially  con- 
stituted a  rotation  of  the  whole  mass  in  one  direction.     Such 
a  hypothesis  seems  to  me  not  only  gratuitous,  but  highly  im- 
probable.   It  is  more  likely  that  these  primeval  motions  took 
the  shape  of  currents,  now  aiding  and  now  opposing  one 
another,  and  determined  hither  and  thither  according  to  local 
circumstances.    In  any  case,  such  indefiniteness  of  movement 
must  finally  end  in  a  definite  rotation  in  one  direction.     For 
unless  the  currents    tending  eastward  are  exactly  balanced 
by  the  currents   tending  westward — a   supposition   against 
which  the  chances  are  as  infinity  to  one — the  one  set  must 
Eventually  prevail  over  the  other.     And   after  some  such 


ch.  v.]  PL  A  NETAB  Y  E  VOL  UTION.  36 1 

manner  as  this  our  solar  nebula  must  have  acquired  its 
definite  rotation  from  west  to  east. 

Let  us  next  observe  the  mechanical  consequences  of  this 
rotation.  No  matter  what  may  have  been  the  primitive 
shape  of  the  nebula — and,  if  we  may  judge  from  the  analogy 
of  irresolvable  nebula?  now  existing,  it  may  very  likely  have 
been  as  amorphous  as  any  cloud  in  a  summer  sky — no 
matter  what  its  primitive  shape,  it  must  at  last  inevitably 
assume  the  form  peculiar  to  rotating  bodies  in  which  the 
particles  move  freely  upon  each  other.  It  must  become  an 
oblate  spheroid,  flattened  at  the  poles  and  bulging  at  the 
equator,  because  at  the  equator  the  centrifugal  tendency 
rjonerated  by  rotation  is  greatest.  Furthermore  as  the  mass 
contracts,  it  must  rotate  faster  and  faster;  for  as  the  total 
quantity  of  rotation  is  unalterable,  the  velocity  must  increase 
as  the  space  traversed  diminishes. 

In  accordance  with  these  principles  of  mechanics,  as  our 
solar  nebula  continued  to  radiate  heat  and  contract,  it  con- 
tinued to  rotate  with  ever-increasing  velocity,  its  poles 
became  more  and  more  flattened,  and  its  equatorial  zone  pro- 
truded more  and  more,  until  at  last  the  centrifugal  tendency 
at  the  equator  became  greater  than  the  force  of  gravity  at 
that  place.  Then  the  bulging  equatorial  zone,  no  longer  able 
to  keep  pace  with  the. rest  of  the  mass  in  its  contraction, 
was  left  behind  as  a  detached  ring,  girdling,  at  a  small  but 
steadily  increasing  distance,  the  retreating  central  mass. 

What  must  now  have  been  the  career  of  this  detached 
ring  ?  Unless  subjected  to  absolutely  symmetrical  forces  in 
all  directions — an  infinitely  improbable  supposition — such  a 
ring  must  forthwith  break  into  a  host  of  fragments  of  very 
unequal  dimensions.  For  in  order  that  it  should  break  into 
tqual-sized  fragments,  the  strains  exerted  upon  it  must  be 
disposed  with  absolute  symmetry;  and  against  this  supposition 
also  the  probabilities  are  as  infinity  to  one.  It  would  break, 
much  as  a  dish,  breaks  when   dropped   on   the   floor,  into 


3G2  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  ii. 

hundreds  of  fragments,  of  which  some  few  would  be  rela- 
tively large,  while  the  numerous  small  ones  would  vary  end- 
lessly in  their  sizes.  At  this  stage,  then,  instead  of  a  con- 
tinuous ring,  we  have  a  host  of  satellites,  surrounding  the  solar 
equator,  revolving  in  the  direction  of  the  solar  rotation,  and 
following  each  other  in  the  same  orbit.  If  undisturbed  by 
any  powerful  attraction  from  without,  these  fragments  would 
continue  in  the  same  orbit,  and  would  gradually  differ  more 
and  more  in  their  velocities.  Each  large  fragment  would,  by 
its  gravitative  force,  retard  the  smaller  fragment  in  front  of 
it,  and  accelerate  the  smaller  fragment  behind  it,  until  at  last 
two  or  three  fragments  would  catch  up  with  each  other  and 
coalesce.  Thus,  in  the  earliest  case  known  to  us, — that  of 
the  planet  Neptune,1 — this  process  went  on  until  all  the 
fragments  were  finally  agglomerated  into  a  spheroidal  body, 
having  a  velocity  compounded  of  the  several  velocities  of 
the  fragments,  and  a  rotation  made  up  of  their  several 
rotations. 

Meanwhile  the  central  mass  of  the  vaporous  sun  continued 
to  radiate  heat  and  to  contract,  until,  when  its  periphery 
came  to  coincide  with  what  is  now  called  the  orbit  of  Uranus, 
its  centrifugal  force  at  the  equator  again  showed  an  excess 
over  gravity,  and  a  second  equatorial  belt  was  left  behind ; 
and  this  belt,  breaking  up  and  consolidating,  after  the  manner 
above  described,  became  the  planet  Uranus.  In  like  manner 
were  formed  all  the  planets,  one  after  another ;  and  from  the 
detached  equatorial  belts  of  the  cooling  and  contracting 
planets,  wTere  similarly  formed  the  satellites. 

A  very  curious  physical  experiment,  devised  by  M.  Plateau, 
strikingly  illustrates  the  growth  of  our  planetary  system  from 

1  It  is  not  strictly  impossible  that  there  may  be  one  or  two  planets  exterior 
to  Neptune,  and  therefore  earlier  in  formation.  Supposing  the  distances  of 
such  planets  to  conform,  even  as  imperfectly  as  in  Neptuue's  case,  to  the  law 
f  Titius,  these  distances  must  be  so  enormous  as  to  prevent  our  readily  dis» 
eovering  the  plauets,  either  directly  by  observation,  or  indirectly,  by  infer' 
Mice  from  possible  perturbations  of  Neptune's  movements. 


ch.  v.]  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION.  3G3 

the  solar  nebula.  M.  Plateau's  experiment  consists  in  freeing 
a  fluid  mass  from  the  action  of  terrestrial  gravity,  so  that  its 
various  parts  may  be  subject  only  to  their  own  mutual 
attractions  ;  and  then  in  imparting  to  this  mass  an  increas- 
ingly rapid  movement  of  rotation.  A  quantity  of  oil  is 
poured  into  a  glass  vessel  containing  a  mixture  of  water  and 
alcohol,  of  which  the  lower  strata  are  heavier  than  the  oil, 
while  the  upper  strata  are  lighter.  The  oil,  when  poured  in, 
descends  until  it  reaches  the  stratum  of  the  same  density 
with  itself,  when  being  freed  from  the  action  of  terrestrial 
gravity,  and  subjected  only  to  the  mutual  attraction  of  its 
own  molecules,  it  assumes  a  spherical  form.  By  an  ingenious 
mechanical  contrivance,  M.  Plateau  now  causes  the  sphere  of 
oil  to  rotate  about  its  own  centre  of  gravity.  While  the 
movement  is  slow,  the  excess  of  centrifugal  force  at  the 
equator  of  the  oil-globe  causes  a  bulging  of  the  equator  and 
corresponding  flattening  of  the  poles,  like  that  observed 
in  the  sun  and  in  all  the  planets.  Prom  a  sphere  the  oil- 
globe  becomes  a  "  spheroid  of  rotation."  If  now  the  move- 
ment is  considerably  accelerated  the  equatorial  portion  of 
the  oil-globe  becomes  detached,  and  surrounds  the  central 
sphere  of  oil  in  the  shape  of  a  nearly  circular  ring,  like 
Saturn's  ring-system.  Finally,  if  the  movement  is  kept 
up  for  a  sufficient  length  of  time,  the  oil-ring  breaks  into 
fragments,  which  revolve  like  satellites  about  the  oil- 
globe,  and  each  of  which  keeps  up  for  a  time  its  own  move- 
ment of  rotation  in  the  same  direction  with  the  revolution  of 
the  ring. 

The  common  origin  of  the  planets  from  the  sun's  equator, 
as  thus  strikingly  illustrated,  explains  at  once  the  otherwiso 
inexplicable  coincidence  of  their  rotations,  their  revolutions, 
and  their  orbital  planes.  At  a  single  glance  we  see  why  the 
planetary  orbits  are  always  nearly  concentric  and  nearly  in  a 
plane  with  the  solar  equator ;  and  we  see  that,  since  the  sun 
must  always  have  rotated,  as  at  present,  from  west  to  east, 


284  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [vt.  ii. 

the  planets  formed  from  liim  must  have  kept  up  a  revolution, 
and  acquired  a  rotation,  in  the  same  direction. 

Such  is  tlie  grand  theory  of  nebular  genesis,  first  elabo- 
rated with  rare  scientific  acumen  by  Kant  in  1755,  and  after- 
wards independently  worked  out  by  Laplace  in  1796.  The 
claims  of  this  theory  to  be  regarded  as  a  legitimate  scientific 
deduction  have  been  ably  stated  by  Mr.  Mill,  in  his  "  System 
of  Logic,"  book  iii.  chapter  xiv.  As  we  are  there  reminded, 
"  there  is  in  this  theory  no  unknown  substance  introduced  on 
supposition,  nor  any  unknown  property  or  law  ascribed  to  a 
known  substance."  Once  grant  that  the  sun  and  planets  are 
cooling  bodies,  the  inference  is  unavoidable  that  the  matter 
which  composes  them  was  formerly  much  more  rare  and  dif- 
fused than  at  present.  If  we  are  to  infer  the  sun's  past  con- 
dition from  its  present  condition,  we  must  necessarily  sup- 
pose that  its  constituent  matter  once  occupied  much  more 
space  than  at  present,  "  and  we  are  entitled  to  suppose  that 
it  extended  as  far  as  we  can  trace  effects  such  as  it  might 
naturally  leave  behind  it  on  retiring ;  and  such  the  planets 
are."  The  abandonment  of  successive  equatorial  zones  by 
the  shrinking  solar  nebula  follows  from  known  mechanical 
laws  ;  and  the  subsequent  breaking  up  of  each  zone,  and  the 
consolidation  of  its  fragments  into  a  planet,  are  processes 
which  similarly  involve  none  but  established  dynamical  prin- 
ciples. It  equally  follows,  from  elementary  laws  of  mecha- 
nics, that  the  planets  thus  formed  would  revolve  and  rotate 
both  in  the  directions  and  in  the  planes  in  which  they  are 
actually  observed  to  revolve  and  to  rotate.  There  is  thus, 
observes  Mr.  Mill,  nothing  gratuitous  in  Laplace's  specula- 
tion :  "  it  is  an  example  of  legitimate  reasoning  from  a 
present  effect  to  a  possible  past  cause,  according  to  the  known 
laws  of  that  cause." 

But  the  evidence  in  favour  of  the  theory  of  nebular  genesis 
is  not  restricted  to  these  general  coincidences  between  obser- 
vation and  deduction.     Many  striking  minor  details  in  the 


en.  v.]  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION.  365 

structure  of  the  solar  system,  otherwise  apparently  inexpli- 
cable, are  beautifully  explained  by  the  theory  of  nebular 
genesis.  Let  us  first  consider  a  case  which  would  appear  to 
be  an  obstacle,  not  only  to  this,  but  to  any  other  frameable 
theory.  We  have  already  hinted  that  Uranus,  while  revolv- 
ing in  the  same  direction  with  the  other  planets,  has  a  back- 
ward rotation,  so  that  to  an  observer  placed  upon  Uranus  the 
sun  would  seem  to  rise  in  the  west  and  set  in  the  east.  His 
moons  revolve  about  him  in  the  same  retrograde  direction ; 
and  his  axis,  instead  of  standing  at  a  great  angle  to  his  orbit- 
plane,  as  is  the  case  with  all  the  nearer  planets,  lies  down 
almost  upon  the  orbit-plane.  It  has  been  asserted  that  these 
peculiarities  are  also  manifested  by  Neptune;  though  our 
opportunities  for  observing  the  latter  planet  are  so  few  that 
this  point  cannot  yet  be  regarded  as  established.  Why  now 
should  such  exceptional  phenomena  be  manifested  in  the 
case  of  either  or  both  of  these  outermost  planets?  In  his 
essay  on  the  Nebular  Hypothesis,  Mr.  Spencer  has  shown 
that  these  phenomena  may  be  explained  by  a  reference  to  the 
shape  of  the  rings  from  which  the  outermost  planets  were 
formed.  When  the  solar  nebula  was  so  large  as  to  fill  the 
orbit  of  Neptune,  its  rotation  must  have  been  slower,  and  its 
figure  consequently  less  oblate,  than  at  later  stages  of  con- 
traction. Now  the  ring  detached  from  a  very  oblate  spheroid, 
which  bulges  greatly  at  the  equator,  must  obviously  be 
shaped  like  a  flat  quoit,  as  is  the  case  with  Saturn's  rings ; 
wnile  conversely  the  ring  detached  from  a  spheroid  which 
bulges  comparatively  little  at  the  equator,  will  approximate 
to  the  shape  of  a  hoop.  Hence  the  rings  which  gave  rise  to 
Neptune  and  Uranus,  having  been  detached  before  the  solar 
nebula  had  attained  the  maximum  of  oblateness,  are  likely 
to  have  been  hoop-shaped;  and  when  we  consider  the 
enormous  circumferences  occupied  by  these  rings,  compared 
with  the  moderate  sizes  of  the  resulting  planets,  we  see  that 
they  must  have  been  very  thin  hoops.     Now  in  such  a  hoop 


366  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  ii. 

the  angular  velocities  of  the  inner  and  outer  surfaces  re- 
spectively will  he  nearly  equal,  and  the  planetary  mass  into 
which  such  a  hoop  concentrates  will  have  its  greatest  diameter 
at  right  angles  (or  nearly  so)  to  the  plane  of  its  orbit ;  so 
that  its  tendency  to  rotate  in  the  line  of  its  revolution  will 
be  so  slight  as  to  be  easily  overcome  by  any  one  of  a  hundred 
possible  disturbing  circumstances.  Without  feeling  required 
to  point  out  the  precise  nature  of  such  circumstances,  we 
may  readily  see  that,  in  the  case  of  the  outermost  planets, 
the  causes  which  ordinarily  make  the  rotation  coincide  with 
the  line  of  revolution  were  at  their  minimum  of  efficiency. 
So  that  the  retrograde  rotation  of  Uranus,  though  not  perhaps 
actually  implied  by  the  hooped  shape  of  its  ancestral  ring, 
is  at  any  rate  quite  in  accordance  with  it. 

I  cite  this  example,  not  merely  on  its  own  account,  but 
also  by  reason  of  the  further  disclosures  to  which  it  leads  us. 
Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  special  interpretation  just 
cited,  there  is  no  doubt  that  Mr.  Spencer's  conception  of 
hoop-shaped  and  quoit-shaped  rings  points  to  a  notable  series 
of  harmonies  among  the  phenomena  of  the  solar  system. 
Observe,  first,  that  according  to  the  theory,  the  outer  planets 
ought  in  general  to  be  much  larger  than  the  inner  planets ; 
and  for  a  very  simple  reason.  The  ancestral  rings  which 
coincided  with  the  immense  orbits  of  Uranus  and  Neptune 
must  of  course  have  been  larger  than  the  ancestral  rings 
which  coincided  with  the  smaller  orbits  of  Mars  and  the 
earth.  A  ring,  for  example,  which  is  seventeen  thousand 
millions  of  miles  in  circumference  may  be  expected  to  con- 
tain more  matter  than  a  ring  which  is  less  than  six  hundred 
millions  of  miles  in  circumference;  and  hence  we  may 
understand  why  Neptune  contains  at  least  sixteen  times  as 
much  matter  as  the  earth. 

But  this,  though  significant,  is  not  a  complete  explanation ; 
for  as  the  case  now  stands,  it  would  seem  as  if  there  ought 
to  be  a  regular  gradation  in  the  sizes  of  the  planets.     Hot 


in.  v.J  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION.  367 

only  ought  Mercury  to  be  the  smallest,  but  Neptune  ought 
to  be  the  largest.  The  facts,  however,  do  not  accord  with 
this  view.  The  four  outer  planets  are  indeed  much  larger 
than  the  four  inner  ones.  But  of  the  inner  group  the  largest 
is  not  Mars,  but  the  earth  ;  while  in  the  outer  group  we  find 
Jupiter  three-and-a-half  times  as  large  as  Saturn,  which  in 
turn  is  seven  times  larger  than  Uranus.  Now  the  key  to 
these  apparent  anomalies  must,  I  think,  be  sought  in  the 
shapes  of  the  rings  from  which  the  planets  were  respectively 
formed.  Neptune  and  Uranus,  formed  from  very  thin  hoop- 
like rings,  at  a  period  when  the  solar  equator  protruded  but 
slightly,  are  indeed  large  planets,  but  not  so  large  as  would 
be  inferred  from  the  size  of  their  orbits  alone.  But  as  the 
solar  nebula  continued  to  contract,  its  increasing  equatorial 
\  elocity  rendered  it  more  and  more  oblate  in  figure,  so  that 
the  rings  next  detached  were  quoit-shaped.  Hence  the 
resulting  planets  not  only  had  their  major  diameters  but 
little  inclined  to  their  orbit-planes,  but  they  were  also  larger 
in  size.  The  very  broad  quoits  which  gave  rise  to  Jupiter 
and  Saturn  may  well  have  contained  more  than  fourteen  times 
as  much  planetary  matter  as  the  extensive  but  slender  hoops 
which  formed  the  two  oldest  planets.  If  instead  of  looking 
at  the  sizes  of  the  resulting  planets,  we  consider  the  thick- 
nesses of  the  genetic  rings,  as  determined  by  comparing  the 
size  of  a  planet  with  the  size  of  its  orbit,  we  shall  see  that, 
from  Neptune  to  Jupiter,  there  was  a  regular  increase  in  the 
thickness  of  the  rings,  such  as  the  theory  might  lead  us  to 
anticipate. 

But  now  after  the  separation  of  Jupiter  from  the  parent- 
mass,  we  encounter  a  break  in  this  series  of  phenomena.  The 
thickness  of  the  detached  rings  sinks  to  a  minimum  in  the 
case  of  the  asteroids,  and  then  steadily  increases  again  until 
in  Mercury  there  is  once  more  an  approach  to  the  quoit- 
shape.  Observe  the  curious  sequence  of  facts,  which  hitherto, 
so  far  as  I  know,  has  never  been  noticed  by  any  of  the  writers 


3C8  COSMIC  PIITLOSOrilY  [pt.  U. 

who  have  treated  of  the  nebular  hypothesis.  Since  the 
mass  of  Mercury  is  four-fifths  that  of  Venus,  while  the 
circumference  of  his  orbit  is  about  one-half  that  of  the  orbit 
of  Venus,  it  follows  that  his  ancestral  ring  must  have  been 
much  thicker  than  that  of  Venus.  Again,  the  earth  is  but 
little  larger  than  Venus,  while  the  circumference  of  its  orbit 
exceeds  that  of  the  latter  nearly  in  the  ratio  of  five  to  three, 
so  that  it  must  have  originated  from  a  thinner  ring.  Mars, 
with  an  orbit  exceeding  the  earth's  in  the  ratio  of  eight  to 
five,  and  containing  but  one-eighth  as  much  planetary  matter 
as  the  earth,  must  have  been  formed  from  a  still  thinner  ring. 
And  since  the  asteroids,  if  all  piled  together,  would  not  make 
a  planet  as  large  as  Mars,1  while  they  move  through  a  very 
much  greater  orbit,  it  follows  that  their  parent-ring  must  have 
been  the  thinnest  of  all.  In  marvellous  conformity  to  this 
general  statement,  it  also  happens  that  the  inner  planets  rotate 
in  planes  which  diverge  more  widely  from  their  orbit-planes 
than  in  the  case  of  Jupiter  and  Saturn,  though  less  widely 
than  in  the  case  of  Uranus  and  Neptune.2  And  lastly  let  us 
r.ote  that  the  velocities  of  the  planetary  rotations  supply 

1  It  may  be  objected  tbat  we  have  probably  not  yet  discovered  all  the 
asteroids.  Those  not  yet  discovered,  however,  must  obviously  be  so  small 
that  the  addition  of  them  to  the  aggregated  mass  of  those  already  known 
would  not  materially  affect  the  truth  of  my  statement. 

3  Curiously  enough,  if  we  examine  the  different  systems  of  satellites,  we 
find  a  similar  general  contrast  in  size  between  the  members  of  outer  and  inner 
groups.  The  two  outer  satellites  of  Jupiter  are  much  larger  than  the  two 
inner  ones  ;  and  the  same  relation  holds  between  the  four  acknowledged 
satellites  of  Uranus  ;  while  of  the  eight  Saturnian  satellites,  the  four  outer 
ones  seem  to  be  decidedly  larger  than  the  four  inner  ones.  Moreover  the 
largest  of  Jupiter's  moous  is  not  the  outermost,  but  the  third  ;  and  of 
Saturn's  moons  the  largest  is  not  the  eighth,  but  the  sixth.  To  these  inte- 
resting facts  which  Mr.  Spencer  has  pointed,  out,  I  will  add  one  which  he  has 
not  observed.  If  instead  of  looking  at  the  sizes  of  the  moons,  we  consider 
the  thicknesses  of  their  genetic  rings,  as  determined  by  comparing  the  size  of  a 
moon  with  the  size  of  its  orbit,  we  find  in  the  Jovian  system  a  regular  in- 
crease in  the  thickness  of  the  rings,  from  the  outermost  to  the  innermost. 
Similar  evidence  from  the  Saturnian  system  is  not  yet  forthcoming,  since  the 
masses  and  even  the  volumes  of  Saturn's  moons  have  not  yet  been  determined 
with  sufficient  accuracy  for  this  purpose.  And  concerning  the  Uranism 
system  our  knowledge  is  still  more  inadequate.  It  will  be  observed,  how 
ever,  thac  even  the  facts  here  fragmentarily  collated  point  clearly  to  some 


ca.  v.]  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION.  369 

further  confirmation ;  for  "  other  things  equal,  a  genetic  ring 
that  is  broadest  in  the  direction  of  its  plane  will  produce  a 
mass  rotating  faster  than  one  that  is  broadest  at  right  angles 
to  its  plane  "  ;  and  accordingly  Jupiter  and  Saturn,  originating 
from  relatively  quoit-shaped  rings,  rotate  very  swiftly  ;  while 
all  the  inner  planets,  originating  from  relatively  hoop-shaped 
rings,  rotate  with  much  less  rapidity. 

Here  we  may  profitably  consider  the  singular  instance  in 
the  history  of  the  solar  system  in  which  a  detached  ring  has 
failed  to  become  integrated  into  a  single  planetary  mass. 
Everyone  remembers  how,  in  accordance  with  the  law  of 
Titius  concerning  planetary  intervals,  Kepler  was  led  to  pre- 
dict the  existence  of  a  planet  between  Mars  and  Jupiter  ;  and 
how,  at  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  not  one  only, 
but  four  such  planets,  were  suddenly  discovered.  More  than 
a  hundred  of  these  little  bodies  have  now  been  detected,  and 
each  year  adds  new  names  to  the  list.  The  four  earliest 
observed — Vesta,  Juno,  Ceres,  and  Pallas — are  of  respectable 
dimensions  ;  Pallas  having  a  diameter  of  600  miles,  or  more 
than  one  fourth  the  diameter  of  our  moon.  Most  of  the 
others  are  quite  tiny,  the  smallest  having  a  surface  perhaps 
not  larger  than  the  state  of  Rhode  Island.  Not  only  do  they 
occupy  the  position  which  would  normally  belong  to  a  ingle 
planet  between  Mars  and  Jupiter,  but  it  is  hardly  question- 
able that  they  have  all  originated  from  a  single  ring  ;  for 
their  orbits  are  interlaced  in  such  a  complicated  way  that,  if 
they  were  material  rings  instead  of  ideal  lines  in  space,  it 
would  be  possible  to  lift  them  all  up  by  lifting  any  one  of 
them.  Why  should  just  one  of  the  solar  rings  have  failed  to 
develope  into  a  single  planet,  and  why  should  such  an  arrest 
of  development  have  occurred  in  just  this  part  of  the  solar 
system  ? 

common  mode  of  genesis  for  both  planets  and  satellites  ;  and  are  likely,  when 
completely  generalized,  to  yield  important  testimony  in  behalf  of  the  nebular 
theory. 

VOL.  I.  B  B 


370  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY,  [pt.  u. 

According  to  Olbers,  the  discoverer  of  Pallas  and  Vesta, 
this  is  not  a  case  of  arrested  development,  but  these  little 
bodies  are  merely  the  fragments  of  an  ancient  well-developed 
planet,  which  has  been  in  some  way  exploded.  But  this 
hypothesis,  though  countenanced  by  Mr.  Spencer,  seems  to 
me  unsatisfactory.  In  Mr.  Spencer's  essay,  it  is  closely  con- 
nected with  the  hypothesis  of  a  gaseous  nucleus  for  all  the 
planets,  which,  though  there  ingeniously  elaborated,  seems  to 
me  as  yet  too  doubtful  to  serve  as  a  basis  for  further  explana- 
tions. And  even  granting  the  hypothesis,  it  would  be 
necessary  further  to  show  why  in  this  planet  alone  the  out- 
ward pressure  of  the  gaseous  nucleus  should  have  overcome 
the  resistance  of  the  solidified  crust.  I  believe  that  the 
problem  is  much  nearer  a  solution  when  we  treat  it  as  a  case 
of  arrested  development ;  for  on  this  view  the  peculiar  fate 
of  the  ancestral  ring  may  be  at  least  partially  explained  by 
a  reference  to  the  perturbing  attraction  exerted  upon  it  by 
Jupiter. 

When  we  reflect  upon  the  immensity  of  the  distances 
which  separate  the  outer  planets  from  each  other,  even  in 
conjunction,  we  perceive  that  during  the  earlier  stages  of 
nebular  contraction  no  planet  was  in  danger  of  being  dis- 
turbed in  its  formation  by  the  attraction  of  its  next  outer 
neighbour  and  predecessor.  But  as  the  increasing  equatorial 
protuberance  of  the  solar  spheroid  began  to  result  in  the 
formation  of  larger  and  larger  planets,  and  as  the  formation 
of  planets  began,  according  to  the  law  of  Titius,  to  occur  at 
shorter  and  shorter  intervals,  there  began  to  be  some  danger 
of  such  disturbance.  There  was  no  chance  for  a  catastrophe, 
however,  until  the  time  when  the  asteroid-ring  was  detached. 
The  enormous  Jupiter-ring  was  at  least  370,000,000  miles 
removed  from  Saturn,  besides  which  its  huge  mass,  implying 
powerful  gravitative  force  among  its  constituent  parts,  served 
further  to  insure  its  equilibrium.  Hence  it  ran  little  risk  of 
incurring  disaster  in  the  course  of  its  planetary  development 


ch.  v.]  PL  A  N  ETA  BY  E  VOL  UTION.  371 

It  was  otherwise  with  the  ancestral  ring  of  the  asteroids. 
This  thinnest  and  weakest  of  rings  started  on  its  independent 
career  at  a  distance  of  only  240,000,000  miles  from  Jupiter, 
the  planet  whose  gravitative  force  is  more  than  twice  that  of 
all  the  other  planets  put  together.  Under  such  circumstances  it 
would  seem  impossible  that  a  planet  could  be  formed.  The 
asteroid-ring  must  have  been  liable  to  rupture,  not  only  from 
the  causes  which  affect  all  planet- forming  rings  alike,  but 
also  from  the  strain  exerted  upon  it,  now  in  one  part  and 
now  in  another,  by  Jupiter's  attraction.  The  fragments  of  a 
ring,  torn  asunder  by  such  a  cause,  would  not  continue  to 
occupy  the  same  orbit ;  they  would  be  dragged  from  the 
common  path  in  various  directions  and  to  various  distances, 
according  to  the  ever- changing  position  of  the  disturbing 
body.  Henceforward,  instead  of  chasing  directly  on  each 
other's  heels,  they  would  rush  along  in  eccentric,  continually 
intersecting  paths,  and  there  would  thus  be  no  opportunity 
for  consolidation,  except  in  the  case  of  two  fragments 
meeting  each  other  at  the  intersection  of  their  orbits.  As  a 
final  result  we  should  have,  not  one  good-sized  planet,  but  a 
multitude  of  tiny  planets,  with  intersecting  orbits  exhibiting 
great  differences  in  eccentricity.  All  this  is  true  of  the  group 
of  asteroids.  While  the  mean  breadth  of  the  ideal  zone 
occupied  by  their  orbits  is  about  100,000,000  miles,  its 
extreme  breadth  reaches  250,000  000  miles.  While  the  orbit 
of  Europa  is  more  nearly  circular  than  any  of  the  orbits  of 
the  true  planets,  on  the  other  hand  the  orbit  of  Polyhymnia 
attains  an  almost  cometary  eccentricity,  the  difference 
between  its  perihelion  and  aphelion  being  nearly  200,000,000 
miles. 

There  is  one  other  circumstance,  however,  which  my 
hypothesis  thus  far  fails  to  explain.  While  the  true  planets 
revolve  in  planes  but  slightly  inclined  to  the  ecliptic — the 
orbit  of  Mercury  showing  an  inclination  of  about  seven 
degrees  as  the  maximum  instance — the  asteroids,  on  the  con- 

B  B  2 


372  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [l-r.  it 

trary,  revolve  in  planes  of  quite  various  degrees  of  inclina- 
tion, the  orbit  of  Pallas  rising  above  the  ecliptic  a.t  an  angle 
of  thirty-four  degrees.  As  the  disturbing  attraction  of 
Jupiter,  however  various  in  direction,  would  seem  to  have 
been  exerted  wholly  in  one  plane,  I  am  unable  to  account  for 
this  diversity  of  inclinations.  Yet  in  spite  of  this  short- 
coming in  the  hypothesis — which  might  perhaps  be  removed 
by  some  one  more  thoroughly  conversant  with  dynamics — all 
the  other  circumstances  in  the  case  point  unmistakeably  to 
the  forcible  rupture  of  the  genetic  ring  by  the  attraction 
exerted  by  Jupiter ;  and  thus  it  would  seem  that,  just  when 
such  an  untoward  event  in  the  history  of  the  solar  system 
might  have  been  expected  to  occur,  it  did  occur. 

Supposing  this  explanation  to  be  sound  in  principle,  it  is 
quite  easy  to  show  why  such  an  event  has  not  occurred  sub- 
sequently. The  next  ring — the  one  which  gave  rise  to  Mars 
— must  have  been  more  than  twice  as  thick  as  the  genetic 
ring  of  the  asteroids,  and  consequently  better  fitted  to  resist 
a  strain  from  without.  And,  moreover,  being  115,000,000 
miles  farther  removed  from  Jupiter,  the  latter  planet  could 
exert  upon  it  only  four-ninths  of  the  disturbing  force  which  it 
had  exerted  upon  the  asteroid-ring.  Thus  the  Mars-ring  was 
permitted  to  develope  into  a  planet.  In  turn,  the  small  size  of 
Mars  prevented  him  from  exerting  any  disastrous  perturbing 
force  upon  the  ring  which  gave  rise  to  the  earth,  though  his 
distance  from  that  ring  could  not  have  exceeded  50,000,000 
miles.  A  simple  computation  will  show  that  Mars  could 
exert  upon  the  earth-ring  not  much  more  than  one-hundredth 
part  of  the  attraction  exercised  by  Jupiter  upon  the  ances- 
tral ring  of  the  asteroids.  On  the  other  hand,  had  the  mass 
of  Mars  been  one  twenty-fifth  as  great  as  that  of  Jupiter — 
that  is,  thirteen  times  as  great  as  the  mass  of  the  earth — he 
might  have  prevented  the  formation  of  the  planet  on  which 
we  live.  And  had  the  mass  of  Mars  been  equal  to  that  of 
Jupiter,  he  might  have  dealt  destruction  to  all  the  planetary 


in.  v.]  PLANET  A  RY  E  VOL  UTION.  373 

rings  subsequently  detached  between  himself  and  the  present 
solar  surface.  The  earth,  Venus,  and  Mercury  would  in  such 
a  case  have  been  represented  by  a  triple  zone  of  asteroids, 
revolving  in  more  or  less  eccentric  orbits,  and  the  portions  of 
planetary  matter  which  constitute  the  German  armies  belea- 
guering Paris  might  to-day1  have  been  peacefully  whirling 
in  space,  ten  million  miles  removed  from  the  portions  which 
constitute  the  starving  population  of  that  unhappy  city. 

Joining  together  all  the  foregoing  considerations,  we  have 
a  most  interesting  array  of  facts,  which  I  believe  have  not 
hitherto  been  contemplated  in  connection  with  one  another. 
Though  in  the  sizes  of  the  planets,  superficially  regarded,  we 
find  no  conspicuous  symmetry  of  arrangement,  yet  in  the 
thickness  of  the  genetic  rings,  as  obtained  by  a  legitimate 
process  of  inference,  we  find  a  symmetry  of  disposition  that 
is  striking  and  suggestive.  From  Neptune  to  Jupiter  we  find 
a  progressive  increase  in  thickness  that  is  entirely  in  con- 
formity with  the  nebular  hypothesis.  From  the  asteroids  to 
Mercury  there  is  a  similar  progressive  increase  which  is 
similarly  in  entire  harmony  with  the  hypothesis.  And  in 
the  only  group  of  satellites  concerning  which  we  have 
adequate  data,  there  is  observed  a  parallel  phenomenon.  But 
in  the  solar  system  there  is  a  conspicuous  break  in  the 
uniformity  of  succession ;  and  this  break  curiously  occurs 
just  at  the  place  where,  according  to  the  most  plausible 
supposition,  there  was  an  arrest  or  failure  in  the  normal 
formation  of  a  planet.  I  have  partially  succeeded  in  tracing 
this  arrest  or  failure  to  the  immediate  effects  wrought  by  the 
mere  proximity  and  gigantic  size  of  the  planet  just  preceding 
in  the  order  of  detachment.  Whether  it  can  be  shown  that 
this  cause,  which  well-nigh  accounts  for  one  of  this  group  of 
phenomena,  will  account  in  some  analogous  way  for  the 
whole  group ;  whether  it  can  be  shown  that  the  detachment 
Df  this  gigantic  mass  may  have  altered  the  dynamic  relations 

1  That  is,  in  December,  1870. 


374  COSMIC  MIL080P1IY.  [pt.  n. 

of  the  central  spheroid  in  such  a  way  as  to  reduce  to  a 
minimum  its  power  of  eliminating  further  rings ;  I  will 
not  pretend  to  say.  It  seems  to  me  better  to  leave  the 
problem  with  this  clear  and  definite  statement,  rather  than 
to  encumber  it  with  hypothetical  explanations  which  are 
quite  likely  to  prove  purely  gratuitous.  Of  the  various  ex- 
planations which  have  occurred  to  me,  none  seem  at  all 
satisfactory ;  and  I  will  gladly  resign,  into  abler  hands,  the 
task  of  solving  the  problem.  What  we  may  regard,  how- 
ever, as  fairly  established,  is  this :  that  while,  after  the 
formation  of  Jupiter,  the  detachment  of  rings  followed  the 
same  law  of  progression  as  before,  there  was  nevertheless 
some  newly-introduced  circumstance  present  which  affected 
the  whole  series  of  detachments  in  common.  But  while  the 
non-explanation  of  this  newly-introduced  circumstance  leaves 
a  serious  gap  in  the  argument,  it  is  to  be  noted  that  all  the 
facts,  so  far  as  collated,  are  in  harmony  with  the  nebular 
hypothesis, — the  existence  of  the  zone  of  asteroids,  in  par- 
ticular, furnishing  powerful  evidence  in  its  favour. 

If  we  pass  from  this  complicated  problem  to  the  much 
simpler  one  of  the  distribution  of  the  satellites,  we  shall 
find  evidence  in  behalf  of  nebular  genesis  so  remarkable  as 
almost  to  amount  to  demonstration.  Whoever  has  read  the 
favourite  speculations  of  theologians  concerning  the  "  plu- 
rality of  worlds,"  will  doubtless  remember  how  strikingly  the 
divine  goodness  is  illustrated  in  the  law  that  in  general  the 
remoter  planets  have  the  greater  number  of  satellites.  Here 
however,  as  in  so  many  cases,  observes  Mr.  Proctor,  "  the 
scheme  of  the  Creator  is  not  so  obvious  to  human  reasoning 
as  some  have  complacently  supposed."  The  "  contrivances  " 
for  lighting  Saturn  are  by  no  means  what  they  ought  to  be, 
according  to  this  teleological  hypothesis.  The  illumitiating 
power  of  our  moon  is  (from  its  greater  proximity  to  the  sun) 
sixteen  times  greater  than  that  of  all  the  eight  ujuons  of 
Saturn  combined ;  while  if  that  planet  were  habxcable,  his 


ch.  v.]  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION.  375 

rings  would  prove  a  formidable  nuisance.  Mr.  Proctor  has 
shown  that,  in  latitudes  corresponding  to  that  of  New  York 
and  Naples,  they  cause  total  eclipses  of  the  sun,  which  last 
seven  terrestrial  years  at  a  time.  But  the  problem  which 
natural  theology  thus  fails  to  solve,  is  completely  solved  by 
a  very  simple  mechanical  consideration.  Since  the  detach- 
ment of  a  moon-forming  ring  from  a  contracting  planet 
depends  on  the  excess  of  centrifugal  force  over  gravity  at  its 
equator,  it  is  evident  that  rings  will  be  detached  in  greatest 
numbers  from  those  planets  in  which  the  centrifugal  force 
bears  the  highest  ratio  to  gravitation.  Such  planets  will  have 
the  greatest  number  of  moons.  And  such,  in  fact,  is  the  case. 
Of  the  four  inner  planets,  which  rotate  slowly,  and  in  which 
the  centrifugal  force  is  therefore  small,  only  the  earth  is 
known  to  have  a  satellite.1  But  Jupiter,  whose  centrifugal 
force  is  twenty  times  greater  than  that  of  any  of  the  inner 
planets,  has  four  satellites.  Uranus,  with  still  greater  cen- 
trifugal force,  has  at  least  four,  and  probably  six  or  eight 
moons.  And  finally  Saturn,  in  which  the  centrifugal  force  is 
one-sixth  of  gravity,  being  nearly  fifty  times  greater  than  on 
the  earth,  has  at  least  eight  moons,  besides  his  three  unbroken 
(or  partly-broken)  rings.  Mr.  Spencer  may  well  declare  that 
this  emphatic  agreement  of  observation  with  deduction  is  an 
unanswerable  argument  in  favour  of  the  nebular  theory. 
Here,  where  the  dynamic  relations  involved  are  so  simple 
that  we  have  no  difficulty  in  tracing  them,  the  significance  of 
the  result  is  unmistakeable.  Where  we  are  enabled  thus 
directly  to  put  the  question  to  Nature,  there  is  no  ambiguity 
in  her  answer. 

In  the  quoit-shaped  rings  which  girdle  Saturn,  we  have 
a  curious  vestige — upon  the  significance  of  which  Kant 
strongly  insisted — of  the  ancient  history  of  our  planetary 

1  It  is  not  improbable  that  Venus  may  have  a  satellite  also.  Several  astro- 
nomers have  declared  that  they  have  seen  such  a.  satellite  ;  but  as  their  testi- 
mony seems  difficult  to  reconcile  with  that  of  other  astronomers,  equally 
competent  as  observers,  the  question  must  remain  an  open  one  for  the  present. 


876  COSMIC  PJIILOSOril  Y.  [pt.  n. 

system.  So  great  has  been  the  centrifugal  force  upon  Saturn, 
due  to  his  rapid  rotation  and  small  specific  gravity,  that  the 
detachment  of  rings  would  seem  to  have  gone  on  after  the 
surface  of  the  planet  had  assumed  the  liquid  state ;  and 
whether  the  rings  thus  formed  be  now  continuous,  or  (as  is 
far  more  probable)  discontinuous,  they  have  obviously  had  a 
much  better  chance  of  preserving  their  equilibrium  than  the 
ordinary  vaporous  moon-forming  rings.  The  dynamics  of  the 
Saturn ian  system  still  present  many  difficult  questions;  but 
the  fact  that  Saturn  is  the  one  planet  which  is  still  girdled  by 
rings  that  are  apparently-continuous,  is  a  very  powerful 
argument  in  favour  of  the  nebular  hypothesis. 

But  the  evidence  does  not  end  with  these  mechanical  illus- 
trations. In  the  present  physical  condition  of  the  various 
planets,  so  far  as  it  can  be  determined,  we  shall  find  further 
corroborative  testimony.  It  is  a  corollary  from  the  nebular 
hypothesis  that  all  the  planets,  having  successively  originated 
from  the  same  vaporous  mass,  must  be  composed  in  the  main 
of  similar  chemical  elements ;  and  this  inference  has  thus  far 
been  uniformly  corroborated  by  spectroscopic  observation 
wherever  there  has  been  an  opportunity  to  employ  it.  Hence 
it  follows  that  the  process  through  which  the  earth  has 
passed  in  contracting  to  its  present  dimensions  has  been,  or 
will  be,  repeated  to  a  certain  extent  upon  all  the  other 
planets.  Upon  any  planet  there  must  eventually  occur  a 
solidification  of  the  crust,  an  extensive  evaporation  and  pre- 
cipitation of  water,  an  upheaval  of  mountains,  an  excavation 
of  river-beds,  and  a  deposit  of  alluvium,  resulting  in  sedi- 
mentary strata.  But  obviously  the  time  at  which  these 
phenomena  occur  must  depend,  not  merely  upon  the  an- 
tiquity of  the  planet,  but  also  upon  the  rate  with  which  it 
parts  with  the  heat  generated  during  its  contraction.  Since 
the  outer  planets  are  so  much  older  than  the  inner  ones,  it 
might  at  first  be  supposed  that  they  must  have  progressed 
much  further  in  consolidation.     But  against  this  must  be 


oh.  v.]  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION.  377 

offset  the  consideration  that  the  ratio  of  volume  to  mass  is 
likely  to  have  been  from  the  first  very  much  greater  in  the 
case  of  the  earlier  planets  than  in  the  case  of  the  interior 
ones,  since  formed  from  a  denser  sun.  Even  now  the  high 
ratio  of  volume  to  mass  is  one  of  the  most  striking  charac- 
teristics of  the  four  outer  as  compared  with  the  four  inner 
planets ;  and  as  bulky  bodies  radiate  heat  much  more  slowly 
than  small  ones,  it  may  well  be  that  this  relatively  small 
density  indicates  the  retention  of  a  relatively  great  amount 
of  molecular  motion.  Of  all  the  factors  in  the  case,  bulk  is 
undoubtedly  the  most  important.  Just  as  the  hot  water  in 
the  boiler  may  remain  warm  through  a  winter's  night,  while 
the  hot  water  in  the  tea-kettle  cools  off  in  an  hour,  so  a  great 
planet  like  Jupiter  may  remain  in  a  liquid  molten  condition 
long  after  a  small  planet  like  the  earth,  though  formed  ages 
later,  has  acquired  a  thick  solid  crust  and  a  cool  temperature. 
Hence  in  a  general  survey  of  the  solar  system  we  may 
expect  to  find  the  largest  planets  still  showing  signs  of  a  heat 
like  that  which  formerly  kept  the  earth  molten,  and  we  may 
expect  to  find  the  smallest  planets  in  some  cases  showing 
signs  of  a  cold  more  intense  than  any  which  has  been  known 
upon  the  earth. 

Now  this  series  of  inferences,  constituting  simply  an 
elaborate  corollary  from  the  theory  of  nebular  genesis,  is  fully 
confirmed  by  observation  in  the  cases  of  Saturn,  Jupiter, 
Mars,  and  the  Moon, — the  only  planets  whose  surfaces  have 
been  studied  with  any  considerable  success.  According  to 
the  nebular  hypothesis,  Jupiter  and  Saturn  ought  to  be  pro- 
digiously hot;  and  so  they  appear  to  be  when  carefully 
examined.  The  tremendous  atmospheric  disturbances  observed 
upuu  both  these  planets  are  such  as  cannot  well  be  explained 
by  the  comparatively  sluggish  action  of  the  sun's  radiance 
upon  such  distant  orbs.  The  atmosphere  of  Jupiter  is  laden 
with  masses  of  cloud,  whether  composed  solely  of  water  or 
uot,  whose  cubic  contents  far  exceed  those  of  all  the  oceans 


378  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  ft 

on  the  earth.  The  trade-winds,  due  to  the  swift  rotation  of 
the  planet,  gather  these  enormous  masses  into  belts  parallel 
with  its  equator.  Storms  and  typhoons  are  incessantly  raging 
in  this  vapour-laden  atmosphere;  and  the  forces  at  work 
there  are  so  stupendous  that  dense  cloud-belts,  thousands  of 
miles  in  width,  are  often  formed  in  a  single  hour.  This  state 
of  things  is  not  like  that  which  is  now  witnessed  upon  the 
earth's  surface ;  it  is  more  like  the  state  of  things  observed 
upon  the  sun,  where  tornadoes  continually  occur,  in  which 
the  earth,  if  it  were  there,  would  be  whirled  along  like  a  leaf 
in  an  equinoctial  gale.  A  similar  state  of  things  must  have 
existed,  in  miniature,  upon  our  own  planet,  in  that  primitive 
age  when  its  oceans  were  in  large  part  held  suspended  in  the 
dense  seething  atmosphere,  and  when  the  intense  volcanic 
fires  within  kept  the  surface  in  ceaseless  agitation.  In  Saturn 
similar  phenomena  are  witnessed.  The  appearance  called  the 
"  square-shouldered  figure "  of  Saturn,  first  observed  by  Sir 
William  Herschel  in  1805,  has  suggested  the  conclusion  that 
the  giant  bulk  of  the  planet  "is  subject  to  throes  of  so 
tremendous  a  nature  as  to  upheave  whole  zones  of  his  surface 
five  or  six  hundred  miles  above  their  ordinary  level." 
Whether  this  be  really  the  case,  or  whether,  as  Mr.  Proctor 
more  plausibly  suggests,  the  prominences  which  give  the 
square-shouldered  aspect  are  due  to  the  shoving  up  of 
immense  masses  of  cloud  far  above  the  mean  layer  of  Saturn's 
cloud-envelope,  we  must  equally  recognize  the  presence  of 
intense  heat  and  furious  volcanic  action  in  the  interior  of 
that  planet.  When  we  add  that  recent  calculations  have 
made  it  almost  certain  that  both  Jupiter  and  Saturn  are  to 
\5ome  extent  self-luminous,  it  becomes  probable  that  these 
great  planets  still  resemble  their  parent,  the  sun,  more  closely 
than  they  resemble  their  younger  and  smaller  brethren. 

Very  different  is  the  state  of  things  witnessed  upon  the 
moon.  The  absence  of  an  atmosphere  from  the  lunar  surface 
was  long  since  proved  by  the  fact  that  "  when  stars   are 


ea.  v.]  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION.  379 

occulted  by  the  moon,  they  disappear  instantaneously," — 
which  would  not  be  the  case  had  the  moon  an  appreciable 
atmosphere;  and  spectroscopic  evidence  has  confirmed  this 
conclusion.  Nor  are  there  any  signs  of  the  presence  of 
liquid  oceans,  or  of  running  water.  Yet  if  the  moon  was 
originally  formed  from  an  equatorial  zone  of  the  earth,  it 
would  seem  that  it  ought  to  contain  the  same  materials  which 
have  from  the  oldest  times  constituted  a  considerable  part  of 
the  terrestrial  surface.  Besides  this,  the  vast  plains  on  the 
moon  which  the  old  astronomers  supposed  to  be  seas,  and 
named  as  such,  are  now  held  to  be  areas  underlaid  by 
sedimentary  rocks  implying  the  former  presence  of  water.1 
If  this  view  be  correct,  there  must  in  all  probability  have 
been  winds  to  excite  the  erosive  movements  of  the  water 
which  caused  this  sedimentation.  For  tidal  action  upon  the 
moon  cannot  be  regarded  as  a  considerable  factor  in  the 
erosion,  unless  we  go  back  to  that  enormously  remote  period 
when  the  earth's  tidal  pull  was  still  employed  in  dragging 
the  moon's  rotation  into  synchrony  with  its  revolution. 

Here  there  is  an  apparent  discrepancy,  which  will  dis- 
appear, however,  when  we  inquire  further  into  the  past 
career  of  the  moon  as  indicated  by  the  present  condition  of 
its  surface.  To  a  great  extent  the  lunar  surface  is  made  up 
of  huge  masses  of  igneous  rock,  through  which  at  short 
intervals  yawn  enormous  volcanic  craters,  whose  fires  seem 
to  be  totally  extinguished.  The  giant  forces  required  to 
bring  about  such  a  state  of  things  are  now  quiescent.  And 
this  implies  that  the  moon  is  a  dead  planet.  It  implies  that 
the  thermal  energies  which  were  once  instrumental  in  raising 
those  huge  cones,  Tycho,  Copernicus,  and  the  rest — quaintly 
named  after  our  terrestrial  heroes  of  science — and  which  once 
drove  up  fiery  streams  of  molten  lava  through  their  ample 

1  Moreover,  "  it  is  not  to  be  forgotten  that,  so  far  as  terrestrial  experience 
is  concerned,  water  is  absolutely  essential  to  the  occurrence  of  volaaDic 
action."     Proctor,  The  Moon,  p.  353. 


380  COSMIO  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  ii. 

mouths,  are  now  clean  gone,  radiated  off  into  space.  This 
cessation  of  volcanic  activity  indicates  that  the  planet  has 
reached  its  limit  of  consolidation,  and  is  no  longer  generating 
heat  from  within.1  Now  the  degree  of  cold  implied  by  this 
stoppage  of  further  lunar  consolidation  must  immeasurably 
exceed  anything  within  terrestrial  experience.  It  may  well 
have  been  great  enough  to  freeze  all  the  lunar  oceans,  and 
even  to  liquefy,  or  perhaps  to  solidify,  the  gases  of  the  lunar 
atmosphere.  The  moon  is  indeed  subjected  at  each  rotation 
to  the  fierce  noontide  heat  sent  from  the  sun ;  but  however 
this  may  scorch  and  blister  the  rocky  surface,  it  can  exercise 
but  little  melting  power.  An  atmosphere,  as  Mayer  has 
happily  observed,  is  like  a  valve  which  lets  water  run  through 

1  "  Nevertheless,  there  are  processes  at  work  out  yonder  which  must  he  as 
active,  one  cannot  hut  believe,  as  any  of  those  which  affect  our  earth.  In 
each  lunation,  the  moon's  surface  undergoes  changes  of  temperature  which 
should  suffice  to  disintegrate  large  portions  of  her  surface,  and  with  time  to 
crumble  her  loftiest  mountains  into  shapeless  heaps.  In  the  long  lunar  night 
of  fourteen  days,  a  cold  far  exceeding  the  intensest  ever  produced  in  terres- 
trial experiments  must  exist  over  the  whole  of  the  unilluminated  hemisphere ; 
and  under  the  intluence  of  this  cold  all  the  substances  composing  the  moon's 
crust  must  shrink  to  their  least  dimensions — not  all  equally  (in  this  we  hud 
a  circumstance  increasing  the  energy  of  the  disintegrating  forces),  but  each 
according  to  the  quality  which  our  physicists  denominate  the  coefficient  of 
expansion.  Then  comes  on  the  long  lunar  day,  at  first  dissipating  the  intense 
cold,  then  gradually  raising  the  substance  of  the  lunar  crust  to  a  higher  and 
higher  degree  of  heat,  until  (if  the  inferences  of  our  most  skilful  physicists, 
and  the  evidence  obtained  from  our  most  powerful  means  of  experiment  can 
be  trusted)  the  surface  of  the  moon  burns  (one  may  almost  say)  with  a  heat 
of  some  500°  F.  Under  this  tremendous  heat  all  the  substances  which  had 
shrunk  to  their  least  dimensions  must  expand  according  to  their  various 
degrees ;  not  greatly,  indeed,  so  far  as  any  small  quantity  of  matter  is 
aflected,  but  to  an  important  amount  when  large  areas  of  the  moon's  surface 
are  considered.  Remembering  the  effects  which  take  place  on  our  earth,  in 
the  mere  change  from  the  frost  of  winter  to  the  moderate  warmth  of  early 
spring,  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  that  such  remarkable  contraction  and  expan- 
sion can  take  place  in  a  surface  presumably  less  coherent  than  the  relatively 
inoist  and  plastic  substances  comprising  the  terrestrial  crust,  without  gradually 
effecting  the  demolition  of  the  steeper  lunar  elevations.  When  we  consider, 
further,  that  these  processes  are  repeated  not  year  by  year,  but  month  by 
month,  and  that  all  the  circumstances  attending  them  are  calculated  to 
lender  them  most  effective  because  so  slow,  steadfast,  and  uniform  in  their 
progression,  it  certainlv  does  not  seem  wonderful  that  our  telescopists  should 
from  time  to  time  recognize  signs  of  change  in  the  moon's  lace." — Proctor 
The  Moon,  pp.  380-382. 


en.  r.]  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION.  381 

in  one  direction,  but  not  in  the  other.  Through  an  enveloping 
atmosphere  the  solar  rays  easily  pierce,  but  return  with 
difficulty.  But  from  the  airless  surface  of  the  moon  the 
solar  radiance  must  be  immediately  reflected  into  space,  as 
from  the  surface  of  a  polished  mirror.  Just  as  on  the 
summits  of  the  Himalayas,  where  the  atmosphere  is  so  rare, 
the  huge  snow-masses  remain  through  centuries  unmelted,  in 
spite  of  the  sun's  blazing  heat ;  so  on  the  surface  or  in  the 
deep  abysms  of  the  moon,  the  air  and  water  once  frozen  must 
remain  frozen  forever. 

We  have  not  yet,  however,  reached  a  satisfactory  inter- 
pretation of  the  original  disappearance  of  the  lunar  atmo- 
sphere. Granting  the  disappearance  of  the  atmosphere,  the 
maintenance  of  a  more  than  arctic  cold  in  spite  of  the  utmost 
intensity  of  solar  radiation  may  readily  be  admitted.  But  in 
this  explanation  the  absence  of  a  surface  atmosphere  is  pre- 
supposed rather  than  accounted  for.  Yet  I  have  thought  it 
worth  while  to  introduce  the  case  in  this  way,  as  we  thus  get 
a  more  vivid  impression  of  the  actual  state  of  things  upon 
the  moon.  For  the  original  disappearance  of  the  lunar  air 
and  water,  a  far  more  thoroughgoing  explanation  was  pro- 
pounded some  years  since  by  M.  Saemann ; l  but  in  this 
explanation  the  extreme  cooling  of  the  moon,  as  just  illus- 
trated, is  implicitly  involved.  According  to  M.  Saemann, 
the  lunar  air  and  water  have  been  literally  drunk  up  by  fclus 
thirsty  rocks.  On  our  own  globe  the  tendency  of  the  surface- 
water  is  constantly  to  percolate  through  the  soil  of  the  land 
or  sea-bottom,  and  thence  through  the  rocks,  downward 
towards  the  centre  of  the  earth.  Yet  with  our  present 
supply  of  internal  heat,  it  is  not  probable  that  any  water  can 
reach  more  than  one  hundredth  part  of  the  distance  towards 
the  earth's  centre,  without  becoming  vaporized  and  thus  getting 

1  In  a  paper  on  the  unity  of  geological  phenomena  throughout  the  solar 
lystem,  translated  by  Prof.  Sterry  Hunt,  and  published  in  the  American 
journal  of  Sciet.ce,  January,  1862. 


332  COSMIC  PUILOSOPll  V.  [pt.  11. 

driven  back  towards  the  surface.  Tn  this  way  there  is  kept 
up  a  circulation  of  water  through  the  peripheral  portions  of 
the  earth's  crust.  But  as  the  earth  becomes  cooler  and  cooler, 
the  water  will  be  enabled  to  circulate  at  greater  and  greater 
depths,  thus  materially  lowering  the  level  of  the  ocean.  In 
this  way,  long  before  the  centre  has  become  cool,  all  the 
surface-water  of  the  earth  will  have  been  sucked  into  the 
pores  of  the  rocks,  and  a  similar  process  will  afterwards  take 
place  with  the  atmosphere.  M.  Saemann  shows  that  by  the 
time  the  earth  had  reached  complete  refrigeration,  the  pores 
of  the  rocks  would  absorb  more  than  one  hundred  times  the 
amount  of  all  the  oceans  on  the  globe,  while  room  would  still 
be  left  for  the  retiring  atmosphere.  Now  this  state  of 
things,  which  will  no  doubt  by  and  by  be  realized  on  the 
earth,  would  seem  to  be  already  realized  on  the  moon. 
Being  forty-nine  times  smaller  than  the  earth,  the  moon  has 
cooled  with  great  rapidity,  and  its  geologic  epochs  have  been 
correspondingly  short.1 

After  the  moon,  we  are  more  familiar  with  the  surface  of 
Mars  than  with  that  of  any  other  heavenly  body,  the  posi- 
tion of  Yenus  being  very  unfavourable  for  thorough  observa- 
tions. Concerning  the  physical  geography  and  meteorology  of 
Mars,  some  trustworthy  information  has  been  obtained.  The 
distribution  of  land  and  sea  over  his  surface  is  sufficiently 
obvious  to  be  delineated  in  maps.  He  possesses  liquid  oceans, 
proved  by  spectroscopic  evidence  to  consist  of  water,  an:l 
his  atmosphere  is  gaseous.  That  he  possesses  climates  analog- 
ous to  our  own  might  be  inferred  from  the  inclination  of  his 
axis  to  his  orbit-plane,  and  is  inductively  proved  by  the  fact 
that  we  can  actually  see  his  polar  snows  accumulate  during 
the  Martial  winter  and  melt  away  at  the  approach  of  the 

1  It  should  be  added  that  the  rapid  cooling  of  the  moon  would  greatly 
increase  the  porosity  of  its  substance.  Prof.  Frankland  has  shown  that 
"assuming  the  solid  mass  of  the  moon  to  contract  on  cooling  at  the  same 
rate  as  granite,  its  refrigeration  through  only  180°  F.  would  create  cellular 
space  eyual  to  nearly  fourteen  and  a  half  millions  of  cubic  miles." 


sh.  v.]  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION.  383 

Martial  summer.  Coincidences  like  these  bear  sufficient 
testimony  to  a  general  resemblance  between  Mars  and  the 
earth.  For  where  there  are  oceans  and  clouds  and  an 
atmosphere  and  polar  snows,  there  must  also  be  currents, 
aerial  and  oceanic,  as  well  as  rains,  rivers,  and  sedimentary 
rocks;  so  that  the  surface  of  Mars  must  probably  present 
geologic  phenomena  not  essentially  unlike  those  witnessed 
upon  the  earth.  Whether  such  geologic  similarity  has 
entailed  a  further  resemblance  in  the  case  of  organic  and 
super-organic  phenomena,  must  be  left  for  the  more  profound 
deductive  science  of  some  future  day  to  determine. 

Thus  from  whatever  point  of  view  we  study  our  planetary 
system,  we  find  such  a  congeries  of  phenomena  as  would 
have  been  produced  by  the  gradual  development  of  the 
system  from  a  homogeneous  nebula.  On  summing  up  the 
conspicuous  facts  already  cited,  we  see  that  the  nebular  hypo- 
thesis fully  explains  the  shapes  of  the  planetary  orbits,  and 
their  slight  inclinations  to  the  plane  of  the  solar  equator ;  the 
shapes  of  the  satellite-orbits,  and  their  proximate  coincidence 
with  the  equatorial  planes  of  their  primaries ;  the  inclina- 
tions of  the  planetary  axes  to  their  orbit-planes ;  the  oblate 
figures  of  the  planets  ;  their  velocities  of  rotation  ;  the  direc- 
tions in  which  they  revolve ;  and  the  directions  in  which 
they  rotate.  To  this  last  clause  the  apparent  obstacle  pre- 
sented by  the  retrograde  rotation  of  Uranus  (and  possibly  of 
Neptune  also)  is  seen  on  closer  examination  to  be  no  real 
obstacle ;  and  the  fact  that  the  exception  occurs  among  the 
outermost  planets,  just  where  we  might  expect  it  to  occur,  if 
at  all,  is  a  powerful  argument  in  favour  of  the  general  theory. 
A  like  powerful  argument  is  furnished  by  the  existence  of 
apparently-continuous  rings  about  Saturn,  the  planet  upon 
which  the  centrifugal  force  bears  the  highest  ratio  to  gravity. 
Still  more  convincing  is  the  testimony  rendered  by  the  dis- 
tribution of  satellites, — a  testimony  well-nigh  meeting  all 
tiie  requirements  of  crucial  proof.     Irregular  as  are  the  sizes 


384  COSMIC  PllILOXOrHY.  [pt.  ii. 

of  tlio  planets  on  a  superficia]  view,  we  find  beneath  this 
apparent  irregularity  a  marvellous  symmetry  of  disposition 
the  explanation  of  which,  though  incomplete,  is  as  far  as  it 
goes  in  favour  of  the  nebular  hypothesis.  The  breaking  up 
of  the  zone  of  asteroids,  though  not  fully  explained,  is  seen 
to  have  occurred  in  the  only  part  of  the  system  where  such  an 
event,  according  to  the  hypothesis,  was  likely  to  occur.  And 
finally  the  geologic  or  meteorologic  phenomena  manifested  by 
the  four  planets  whose  surfaces  have  thus  far  been  success- 
fully studied,  are  just  what  the  theory  requires  them  to  be. 
The  intense  heat  and  furious  volcanic  activity  of  Jupiter 
and  Saturn,  the  extreme  loss  of  heat  and  cessation  of  volcanic 
activity  upon  the  moon,  the  moderate  temperature  and  habit- 
able aspect  of  Mars,  are  alike  deducible  from  the  nebular 
hypothesis. 

I  doubt  if  such  persistent  agreement  between  deduction 
and  observation  has  ever  been  •witnessed  in  the  case  of  an 
erroneous  or  radically  inadequate  hypothesis.  If  the  sole 
ultimate  test  of  a  theory  is  that  it  reconciles  the  order  of 
conceptions  with  the  order  of  phenomena,  may  we  not  say 
that  the  theory  of  Kant  and  Laplace,  having  sustained  the 
repeated  application  of  this  test,  may  be  accepted  provisionally 
as  a  true  account  of  the  past  history  of  our  system  of 
worlds  ?  It  is  true  that  the  application  of  the  test  has  not 
yet  been  made  exhaustive ;  the  verification  is  not  yet 
complete.  Some  of  the  interpretations  above  given  are  still, 
as  I  have  acknowledged,  but  partial ;  and  there  are  yet  other 
groups  of  phenomena  with  which  I  have  not  ventured  to 
meddle.  To  the  various  densities  of  the  planets  I  have 
alluded  but  incidentally ;  and  the  various  angular  velocities, 
as  well  as  the  order  of  distances  formulated  in  the  law  of 
Titius,  still  await  an  explanation.  Besides  which,  the  evi- 
dence from  the  physical  condition  of  the  surfaces  of  Mercury 
and  Venus,  Uranus  and  Neptune,  and  the  moons  of  the  fouT 
outer  planets,  is  not  yet  forthcoming.     It  would  be  asserting 


en.  v.]  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION.  385 

too  much,  tnerefore,  to  assert  that  the  nebular  hypothesis  is 
completely  verified,  like  the  hypothesis  of  gravitation.  But 
on  the  other  hand,  they  understand  little  of  the  logic  of 
scientific  inquiry  who  expect  to  obtain  the  same  kind  and 
degree  of  evidence  in  the  former  case  as  in  the  latter.  It 
was  part  of  Newton's  rare  good  fortune  that  his  hypothesis 
was  the  generalization  of  a  physical  property  of  matter, 
which  could  be  verified  by  a  single  crucial  instance.  In 
none  of  the  concrete  sciences  can  such  kind  of  verification 
be  looked  for.  A  theory  relating  to  a  heterogeneous  assem- 
blage of  concrete  phenomena  can  only  be  verified  gradually, 
as  the  successive  groups  of  phenomena  in  question  are  one 
after  another  successfully  studied  and  interpreted.  Thus  the 
complete  verification  of  the  nebular  hypothesis,  as  applied 
merely  to  the  solar  system,  involves  the  complete  explana- 
tion of  the  chief  dynamic  and  physical  features  of  the 
system ;  and  for  this  we  have  yet  to  wait.  Meanwhile  the 
theory  possesses  such  unmistakeable  marks  of  genuineness, 
it  conforms  in  so  many  and  various  ways  to  the  test  of 
reconciling  the  order  of  conceptions  with  the  order  of 
phenomena,  that  no  one  capable  of  estimating  scientific  evi- 
dence would  hesitate  in  provisionally  accepting  it.  Devised 
to  account  for  a  certain  limited  group  of  phenomena,  it  not 
only  accounts  for  these,  but  also  for  other  groups  of  pheno- 
mena, not  considered  by  its  propounders.  Facts  which  on  a 
superficial  view  appeared  as  obstacles  to  the  theory,  have  on 
closer  examination  turned  out  to  be  powerful  arguments  in 
its  favour.  It  is  sustained  by  all  the  facts  within  our  ken, 
and  invalidated  by  none.  And  it  has  so  far  thriven  with 
the  progress  of  discovery  during  the  past  hundred  and  twenty 
years,  that  at  the  present  moment  it  commands  wider  assent 
than  at  any  previous  time  since  its  first  promulgation. 

Of  this  last  statement  we  find  striking  confirmation  as 
we  pass  beyond  the  limits  of  the  solar  system  and  seek  for 
evidence  in  the  remotest  depths  of  stellar  space.     It  is  well 

VOL.  I.  CO 


386  COKMIO  PHILOSOPHY.  [it.  it 

known  that  Sir  William  TIerscliel  supposed  certain  irresolv- 
able nebulae  to  consist  of  self-luminous  vapour  hovering 
cloud-like  in  space.  Laplace  associated  this  hypothesis  with 
his  own  theory  of  planetary  evolution ;  pointing  to  the  pre- 
sent existence  of  nebulous  masses  as  confirmatory  proof  of 
the  past  existence  of  such  a  nebulous  mass  as  his  theory 
required.  According  to  this  view,  the  irresolvable  nebulae  are 
simply  starry  systems  in  embryo;  and  when  our  planetary 
system  consisted  simply  of  the  sun  diffused  in  gaseous  form 
over  a  circumference  of  perhaps  thirty  thousand  million  miles, 
it  was  just  like  one  of  these  nebulae.  But  since  Herschel's 
time  many  nebulae,  which  he  regarded  as  irresolvable,  have 
been  resolved  into  dense  starry  clusters.  The  great  nebula 
in  Orion,  upon  which  Herschel  placed  great  reliance,  was 
resolved  both  by  Lord  Eosse's  reflector  and  by  our  Harvard 
refractor ;  and  the  suspicion  began  accordingly  to  arise  that, 
if  our  telescopes  were  only  powerful  enough,  there  might 
prove  to  be  no  irresolvable  nebulae  at  all.  Hence  many 
writers  thoughtlessly  hastened  to  proclaim  that  the  nebular 
theory  had  lost  its  chief  support,  forgetting  that  the  over- 
whelming evidence  furnished  by  the  comparatively  well- 
known  structure  of  the  solar  system  must  take  precedence  of 
any  hypothesis  as  to  the  character  of  remote  and  less-known 
sidereal  phenomena.  Mr.  Chambers,  in  giving  an  account  of 
the  resolution  of  the  "  dumb-bell "  nebula  in  Vulpecula, 
rather  gleefully  wrote  the  obituary  of  the  nebular  hypothesis  ; 
but  like  many  other  obituaries,  this  one  turned  out  to  be 
premature.  For  now  came  Mr.  Huggins,  with  his  spectro- 
scope, and  proved  once  for  all  that  the  wary  and  sagacious 
Herschel,  who  hardly  ever  made  a  false  step,  was  right,  here 
as  elsewhere.  In  1864  Mr.  Huggins  analyzed  the  light  sent 
from  a  nebula  in  Draco,  and  found  it  to  contain  the  bright 
lines  which  are  sure  evidence  of  the  gaseous  condition  of  the 
luminous  body.  Since  then  several  other  nebulae  have  been 
proved  to  be  gaseous ;    so  that  the  question  may  now  be 


»h  v.]  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION.  387 

regarded  as  settled  for  ever,  and  as  settled  in  favour  of  the 
nebular  hypothesis.  Henceforth,  to  the  evidence  found  in 
the  structure  of  our  planetary  system,  there  may  be  added 
the  weighty  argument  that  masses  of  matter  still  exist  in 
space,  in  the  very  condition  in  which  our  system  must  have 
originally  existed. 

If  the  nebular  hypothesis  was  ever  to  be  subjected  to  a 
hazardous  trial,  one  would  suppose  that  the  discovery  of 
spectrum  analysis  must  have  furnished  the  occasion.  Here 
is  a  discovery  which  has  suddenly  enlarged  our  knowledge  of 
the  stellar  universe  in  a  manner  utterly  beyond  the  power  of 
the  greatest  and  subtlest  mind  to  have  predicted  twenty 
years  ago,  —  a  discovery  which  not  only  reveals  to  us  the 
actual  motions  of  the  stars,  but  even  penetrates  into  their 
molecular  structure,  and  discloses  the  chemical  elements  of 
which  their  surfaces  are  composed  as  well  as  the  physical 
state  of  aggregation  of  those  surfaces.  Now  if  ever,  one 
might  think,  is  the  time  to  find  out  whether  our  nebular 
hypothesis,  devised  in  an  era  of  comparatively  scanty  astro- 
nomical knowledge,  is  a  sound  hypothesis  or  not.  If  it 
survives  this  immense,  unprecedented  extension  of  our  know- 
ledge, what  more  magnificent  triumph  could  we  wish  for  it  ? 
And  here  we  see  that  the  very  first  result  of  the  application 
of  spectrum  analysis  to  sidereal  phenomena  has  been  the 
placing  of  the  nebular  hypothesis  upon  a  firmer  basis  than 
ever  before,  removing  the  only  serious  obstacle  which  had 
hitherto  deterred  many  cautious  thinkers  from  committing 
themselves  to  it. 

Spectroscopic  researches  but  lately  undertaken,  and  not  yet 
carried  out  to  a  decisive  result,  seem  likely  not  only  further 
to  strengthen  the  noble  theory  of  Kant  and  Laplace,  but  to 
give  it  a  comprehensive  significance  of  which  those  great 
thinkers  could  never  have  dreamed.  Along  with  further 
eonfirmation  of  the  process  of  mechanical  and  physical 
evolution,  as  originally  formulated  in  their  hypothesis,  evi- 

C  c  2 


388  COSMIC  T II ILOSOmY.  [WML 

dences  are  daily  coming  in  to  show  that  there  is  going  on  a 
parallel  process  of  chemical  evolution  from  homogeneity  to 
heterogeneity,  which  is  no  less  wonderful  in  its  significance. 
The  old  empirical  classification  of  stars  according  to  their 
colours  is  beginning  to  have  a  new  meaning.     The  method  of 
comparison  is  becoming  applicable  in  astronomy,  as  it  has 
long  been  employed  in  the  study  of  organisms,  of  societies, 
and  of  languages.     It  begins  to  be  probable  that  among  the 
various  groups  of  stellar  bodies  there  may  be  found  cosmica] 
matter  in  many  different  stages  of  evolution, — from  the  pri- 
mitive nebula  which  yields  but  .a  simple  hydrogen-line,  to 
such  a  highly-evolved  body  as  our  own  sun  with  the  many- 
lined   vapour   of  iron  abundant  in  its   heated  atmosphere. 
But  into  this    fascinating  region    of    speculation   it   would 
be    somewhat    premature    for    us    now    to    enter.     Merely 
indicating  what  a  rich  harvest  of  discovery  is  here  likely 
to  reward  the  labourers  of  the  immediate  future,  I  would 
call  attention  to  an  interesting  speculation  of  Mr.  Spencer's, 
the   possible   inadequacy    of   which    need   not   weaken   the 
effect   of    the   evidence   above    cited    from    planetary   phe- 
nomena,  and    which   is   in   every   way    worthy    of   serious 
consideration. 

According  to  Mr.  Spencer,  the  distribution  of  nebulse 
affords  a  significant  illustration  of  the  nebular  hypothesis. 
Speaking  generally,  nebulas  occur  in  regions  where  developed 
stars  are  scarce.  The  vast  groups  of  spherical  nebulae,  here 
and  there  partly  developed  into  starry  clusters,  which  con- 
stitute the  so-called  Magellanic  Clouds,  are  situated  in  a 
district  of  the  sky  that  is  otherwise  starless.  Now  by  far 
the  most  striking  of  this  class  of  facts  is  one  which  serves  to 
bring  the  entire  sidereal  system  into  direct  comparison  with 
that  little  portion  of  it  to  which  we  belong.  Just  as  the 
planets  lie  almost  entirely  in  a  single  plane,  so  the  stars  are 
distributed  in  almost  infinite  numbers  in  the  plane  of  the 
Milky  Way,  while  elsewhere  thev  occur  rarely.     And  just 


ch.  v.]  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION.  389 

as  the  comets  are  chiefly  distributed  about  the  po^es  of 
our  solar  system,  their  orbits  cutting  its  equatorial  plane  at 
great  angles,  so  the  nebulae  are  found  in  greatest  numbers 
about  the  poles  of  the  galaxy.  It  seems  unlikely  that  this 
parallelism,  which  Mr.  Spencer  was  the  first  to  point  out, 
should  be  accidental.  It  indicates  a  common  mode  of  evo- 
lution of  the  whole  starry  system.  It  vaguely  points  to  a 
gigantic  process  of  concentration  going  on  throughout  the 
galaxy,  analogous  to  the  local  process  of  concentration  which 
has  gone  on  in  our  own  little  planetary  group.  Still  more 
obvious  will  this  become  when  we  consider  the  explanation 
of  these  phenomena  which  Mr.  Spencer  has  offered. 

Observation  shows  that  while  the  more  consolidated 
nebulas  are  oval  or  spheroidal  in  shape,  the  less  consolidated 
nebulae  are  often  extremely  irregular,  throwing  out  long  arms 
of  vaporous  matter  into  the  adjacent  spaces.  This  agrees 
with  what  we  have  learned  to  expect  in  any  rotating  mass 
which  gravitation  is  slowly  drawing  closer  and  closer  together. 
The  oval  form  is  due,  as  we  have  seen,  to  the  combined 
effects  of  gravitation  and  rotatory  movement.  But  this  im- 
plies an  earlier  state  in  which  the  figure  was  irregular.  Now 
while  the  heavier  portions  of  the  mass  were  being  drawn 
together  so  as  to  acquire  a  spheroidal  contour,  the  lighter 
portions,  floating  farther  from  the  centre  of  gravity,  would 
remain  like  detached  shreds  of  cloud,  or  like  long  luminous 
streaks.  And  while  all  these  would  ultimately  be  compelled 
by  gravitation  to  revolve  about  the  centre  of  the  mass,  never- 
theless the  lightest  and  outermost  shreds  would  be  a  long 
time  in  acquiring  a  definite  direction  of  revolution.  While 
the  greater  number  would  be  doubtless  drawn  in  and  ab- 
sorbed by  the  main  mass  at  an  early  stage,  the  chances  are 
that  some  would  not  arrive  until  the  main  mass  had  become 
considerably  contracted.  Now  it  is  easy  to  see  that  such 
iate  arriving  flocculi,  coming  toward  the  centre  of  gravity 
from   a  great  distance,  and  therefore  having  small  angular 


S90  cosmic  ruiLosoru  r.  [pt.  u, 

velocities,  will  move  in  very  eccentric  ellipses.  In  tlie  next 
place,  while  they  will  come  from  all  parts  of  the  space  which 
the  mass  originally  occupied,  they  will  come  chiefly  from 
regions  remote  from  the  plane  in  which  integration  has  beeD 
most  marked, — that  is,  from  the  poles  of  the  nebula  rather 
than  from  its  equatorial  regions.  And  thirdly,  having  failed 
to  accompany  the  retreating  mass  of  the  nebula  while  it 
was  first  acquiring  a  definite  direction  of  rotation,  theii 
own  revolutions  will  be  determined  chiefly  by  their  irre- 
gular shapes,  and  they  will  be  as  likely  to  be  retrograde 
as  direct. 

All  this  is  true  of  comets :  they  come  chiefly  from  high 
solar  latitudes,   along   immensely   eccentric   orbits,   and   in 
directions  which  are  indifferently  direct  or  retrograde.     And 
when  we  add  that  they    are   nebulous   in   constitution,   it 
appears  highly  probable  that  they  are  simply  outlying  shreds 
of  the  nebula  from  which  our  planetary  system  has  been 
developed.     As   for  the   irresolvable   patches   of    nebulous 
matter  which  are  distributed  about  the  poles  of  the  galactic 
circle,  their  distance  from  us  is  so  great  that  we  have  not  yet 
ascertained  anything  trustworthy  concerning  their  motions. 
But  the  fact  that  their  position  in  high  galactic  latitudes  is 
explicable  upon  the  same  general  principles  which  explain 
the  positions    of   comets,   raises    a   presumption   that  their 
ielation  to  the  galaxy  as  a  whole  may  somewhat  resemble 
that  which  comets  bear  to  the  solar  system.     Between  the 
possible    careers  of  the    nebulae   and  the   comets,  there  is, 
however,  a  mighty  difference.      The  nebula  which  we  see 
through  quadrillions  of  miles  shining  by  a  light  of  its  own 
must  needs  be  an  enormous  object — enormous  in  mass  as 
well  as  in  volume — and  its  gravitative  force  must  be  pro- 
portionate to   its    size.     While,  therefore,  its  gradual  con- 
traction is  likely  to  be  attended  by  its  development  into  a 
planetary   system,  by  a  process   of   integration    and    diffe- 
rentiation such  as  we  have   here  described  \   on  the  other 


oh.  v.]  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION,  391 

hand  the  comet  is  an  object  of  inconsiderable  mass,  though, 
often  of  considerable  volume.  The  slight  concentration  of 
which  it  is  capable  will  not  produce  planetary  systems  or 
even  asteroids,  but  only  streams  of  meteors  or  shooting-stars, 
such  as  are  now  poured  down  upon  the  earth  and  its  neigh- 
bour planets  at  the  rate  of  a  hundred  thousand  million  each 
year.  The  researches  of  the  past  ten  years  have  gone  far 
to  show  that  such  meteoric  streams  differ  from  nebulous 
comets  in  no  respect  save  in  their  greater  aggregation ;  the 
difference  being  similar  to  the  difference  between  a  cloud 
and  a  shower  of  rain-drops.  AVe  are  constantly  encounter- 
ing portions  of  these  condensed  comets  and  uniting  them 
with  our  own  planetary  substance.  And  in  this  way  the 
integration  of  the  outlying  portions  of  our  primitive  nebula 
is,  at  this  late  day,  still  going  on. 

As  we  pause  to  survey,  in  a  single  comprehensive  glance, 
this  gigantic  process  of  Planetary  Evolution,  in  which  the 
integration  of  matter  and  concomitant  dissipation  of  mole- 
cular motion,  kept  up  during  untold  millions  of  ages,  has 
brought  about  the  gradual  transformation  of  a  relatively 
homogeneous,  indefinite,  and  incoherent  mass  of  nebular 
vapour  into  a  decidedly  heterogeneous,  definite,  and  coherent 
system  of  worlds ;  we  are  at  first  struck  by  the  peculiarity 
that  the  process  has  apparently  long  since  come  to  a  close 
in  the  establishment  of  a  complete  moving  equilibrium. 
Habituated  as  we  are  to  the  contemplation  of  fleeting 
phenomena,  the  stars  in  their  courses  have  become  the 
types  of  permanence;  and  the  stability  of  our  planetary 
system  has  furnished  a  fruitful  theme  for  the  admiring  com- 
ments of  the  mathematician  and  the  theologian.  In  so  far 
as  this  appearance  of  eternal  stability  is  well  founded,  it 
admirably  illustrates  the  theorem,  already  cited  in  our  dis- 
cussion of  the  rhythm  of  motion,  that  wherever  the  forces 
in  action  are  few  in  number  and  simple  in  composition,  the 


-02  COSMIC  nilLOSOPIIY.  [pt.  n. 

rcsultin  rhythms  will  be  simple  and  long-enduring.  Never- 
theless the  processes  still  going  on  in  our  system  are  such 
as  to  forbid  the  conclusion  that  this  apparently  permanent 
equilibrium  is  destined  really  to  be  permanent.  The  con- 
centration of  matter  and  concomitant  dissipation  of  mole- 
cular motion,  which  has  gone  on  from  the  beginning,  must 
still  continue  to  go  on  until  it  has  reached  its  limit.  That 
consolidation  and  accompanying  refrigeration  which  has 
changed  the  earth  from  a  nebula  into  an  incandescent  star, 
and  from  a  star  into  nn  inhabitable  planet,  must  continue 
until  a  state  of  things  is  inaugurated  for  which  we  must  seek 
a  parallel  in  the  present  condition  of  the  moon.  So,  too, 
the  contraction  which  generates  the  prodigious  quantity  of 
heat  daily  lost  by  the  sun,  cannot  go  on  forever  without 
reducing  the  sun  to  a  solidity  incompatible  with  the  further 
generation  of  radiant  energy. 

Thus  the  moon  appears  to  afford  an  example  of  the 
universal  death  which  in  an  unimaginably  remote  future, 
awaits  all  the  members  of  the  solar  system.  It  then  be- 
comes an  interesting  question  whether  this  cosmic  death 
will  be  succeeded  by  Dissolution, — that  is,  by  the  rediffu- 
sion  of  the  matter  of  which  the  system  is  composed,  and 
by  the  reabsorption  of  the  lost  motion  or  its  equivalent. 
We  shall  find  it  difficult  to  escape  the  conclusion  that  such  a 
Dissolution  must  ultimately  take  place. 

If,  along  with  the  dissipation  of  molecular  motion  already 
described,  the  planets  are  also  losing  that  molar  motion  to 
which  is  due  their  tangential  momentum,  this  loss  of  motion 
must  ultimately  bring  about  their  reunion  with  the  sun. 
Upon  such  a  point  direct  observation  can  help  us  but  little ; 
but  there  are  two  opposing  considerations,  of  a  force  which 
none  will  deny,  and  based  on  facts  which  none  can  dispute. 
Two  sets  of  circumstances  are  struggling  for  the  mastery,— 
the  one  set  tending  to  drive  the  planets  farther  and  farther 
jiway  from  the  centre  of  the  system,  the  other  set  tending  te 


ch.  v.]  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION.  393 

draw  them  towards  the  centre.     Let  us  see  which  set  must 
prevail  in  the  end. 

Hitherto,  in  all  probability,  the  first  set  of  circumstances 
has  had  the  advantage.  There  is  little  reason  to  doubt  that 
all  the  planetary  orbits,  both  primary  and  secondary,  are 
somewhat  larger  now  than  they  were  originally.  This  i~  an 
indirect  consequence  of  the  slow  loss  of  rotatory  momentum 
due  to  tidal  action.  The  calculation  by  which  Laplace 
thought  he  had  proved  that  the  terrestrial  day  had  not 
lengthened  since  the  time  of  Hipparchos,  has  been  shown 
by  Prof.  Adams  to  be  vitiated  by  the  inclusion  of  an  er- 
roneous datum;  and  the  theory  involved  is  no  longer 
tenable.  It  has  been  proved  that  the  tidal  wave  which 
the  moon  draws  twice  a  day  around  the  earth,  in  the  op- 
posite direction  to  the  terrestrial  rotation,  acts  upon  the 
earth  like  a  brake  on  a  carriage- wheel.  Owing  to  this  cir- 
cumstance, the  day  is  now  one  eighty-fourth  part  of  a  second 
longer  than  at  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era ;  and  it  is 
destined  to  continue  lengthening  until  in  the  remote  future 
there  will  be  from  three  to  four  hundred  hours  between 
sunrise  and  sunset.  But  the  rotatory  momentum  thus 
lost  by  the  earth  is  not  destroyed.  In  conformity  with 
a  well-known  principle  of  dynamics,  it  is  added  to  the 
tangential  momentum  of  the  moon,  and  thus  lengthens  the 
radius  of  the  moon's  orbit.  The  more  slowly  our  planet 
rotates,  the  farther  the  moon  retires  from  us.  A  similar 
relation  holds  good  in  the  case  of  the  planets  and  the  sun. 
Not  only  is  it  demonstrable  d  priori  that  the  planets  must 
cause  tides  upon  the  surface  of  the  sun,  but  the  tides  caused 
by  all  the  primary  planets,  save  Mars,  Uranus,  and  Neptune, 
have  been  actually  detected  by  a  minute  comparison  of 
the  variations  in  the  solar  spots.  These  tidal  waves  are 
drawn  around  the  sun  in  the  direction  opposite  to  that  of 
his  rotation,  and  must  therefore  exert  a  retarding  effect. 
A.nd   the  rotatory  momentum  thus  stolen  from  the  sun  is 


394  COSVIC  PHILOSOPST  [pt.  ii. 

added,  in  accordance  with  a  pro  raid  principle  of  distribu- 
tion, to  the  tangential  momenta  of  the  various  planets 
concerned  in  the  theft.  There  can  be  little  doubt,  there- 
fore, that  all  the  planetary  orbits,  both  primary  and  second- 
ary, are  steadily  enlarging,  and  that  this  process  must  go  on 
until  that  synchrony  between  revolution  and  rotation  now 
witnessed  in  our  moon  becomes  universal,  unless  it  is  pre- 
viously checked  by  the  cessation  of  tidal  phenomena.  As 
between  the  earth  and  moon,  for  example,  the  ultimate 
result  of  the  whole  process  must  be  the  lengthening  of  the 
terrestrial  day  until  it  corresponds  with  a  lunar  month,  so 
that  the  earth  and  moon  will  move  in  relation  to  each  other 
just  as  if  joined  together  by  a  rigid  rod.  This  result  will 
actually  be  realized  unless  forestalled  by  the  completed 
refrigeration  of  the  earth,  which  will  put  an  end  to  the 
tidal  friction.  In  like  manner  the  sun's  rotation  must 
diminish  until  equilibrated  with  the  motions  of  the  planets, 
unless  this  result  is  forestalled  by  the  completed  refrigera- 
tion of  the  sun.  And  in  all  cases,  so  long  as  the  process 
goes  on,  there  must  be  a  tendency,  however  slight,  for  the 
planets  to  recede  from  the  sun. 

The  action  of  this  set  of  circumstances,  however,  though 
hitherto  no  doubt  predominant,  is  strictly  limited  in  duration. 
Sooner  or  later  an  equilibration  of  motions  will  be  reached, 
and  this  receding  tendency  will  cease  to  be  manifested.  It 
is  quite  otherwise  with  the  opposing  set  of  circumstances 
which  we  have  now  to  consider.  We  have  now  to  contem- 
plate a  cause  which  operating  from  the  very  outset,  and  still 
insidiously  operating,  will  continue  to  operate  long  after  the 
process  just  described  has  come  to  an  end.  Each  year's  dis- 
coveries show  more  and  more  conclusively  that  the  inter- 
planetary spaces  are  filled  with  matter.  The  existence  of 
some  interplanetary  and  interstellar  matter  is  indeed  a 
necessary  condition  for  the  transmission  of  light  and  othei 
forms  of  radiance.     Now  wherever  a  body  moves  through  3 


bh.  v.]  PLANETARY  EVOLUTION.  395 

material  medium,  it  meets  with  resistance  ;  it  imparts  motion 
to  the  medium,  and  loses  motion  in  so  doing.  If  the  body  is 
a  planet  like  Jupiter,  weighing  a  couple  of  septillions  of  tons, 
and  rushing  along  at  the  rate  of  eight  miles  per  second 
through  an  ether  far  lighter  than  the  air  left  in  an  exhausted 
receiver,  the  resistance  will  be  inconceivably  small,  I  admit. 
Still  there  will  be  resistance,  and  long  before  the  end  of  time, 
this  resistance  will  have  eaten  up  all  the  immense  momen- 
tum of  the  planet.  A  Hindu,  wishing  to  give  expression  to 
his  idea  of  the  duration  of  hell-fire,  said  that  if  a  gauze  veil 
were  to  be  brushed  against  the  Himalaya  mountains  once  in 
a  hundred  million  centuries,  the  time  required  for  thus  wear- 
ing away  the  whole  rocky  range  would  measure  the  torments 
of  the  wicked.  One  marvels  at  such  a  grandiose  imagination  ; 
but  the  realities  of  science  beggar  all  such  attempts  at  giving 
tangible  shape  to  infinitude.  The  resistance  of  an  ethereal 
medium  may  work  its  effects  even  more  slowly  than  the 
Hindu's  veil,  yet  in  time  the  effects  must  surely  be  wrought. 
Either  the  planets  are  moving  in  an  absolute  vacuum — a 
supposition  which  is  incompatible  with  the  transmission  of 
heat  and  light — or  else  the  resistance  of  the  medium  must 
tend  to  diminish  their  angular  velocities.1 

In  the  absence  of  any  counteracting  agencies — and,  after 
the  cessation  of  the  process  above  described,  none  such  are 
assignable — this  loss  of  tangential  momentum  must  ulti- 
mately bring  all  the  planets  into  the  sun,  one  after  another, 
beginning  with  Mercury  and  ending  with  Neptune.  Here  the 
concentration  of  matter  appears  to  have  reached  its  limit. 
But  what  must  now  happen? 

Let  us  n^ts  that  the  tangential  momentum  lost  by  the. 
planet  is  lost  only  relatively  to  its  distance  from  the  sun.  As 
the  planet  draws  nearer  to  the  sun,  its  lost  tangential 
momentum  is  replaced,  and  somewhat  more  than  replaced,  by 
the  added  velocity  due  to  the  increased  gravitative  forca 

1  See  Balfour  Stewart,  The  Conservation  of  Energy,  p.  9(J. 


396  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [rr.  u. 

exerted  by  the  sun  at  the  shorter  distance.  "But  this  newly- 
added  momentum  is  all  needed  to  maintain  the  planet  at  its 
new  distance  from  the  central  mass,  and  can  never  be  avail- 
able to  carry  it  back  to  the  old  distance.  It  is  thus  that 
Encke's  comet  moves  more  and  more  rapidly  as  it  approaches 
the  sun,  into  which  it  appears  to  be  soon  destined  to  be 
drawn.  For  these  reasons  the  earth,  which  now  moves  at 
the  rate  of  18  miles  per  second,  would  attain  a  velocity  of 
379  miles  per  second  when  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood 
of  the  solar  mass.  Hence  when  at  last  the  planet  strikes 
the  sun,  it  must  strike  it  with  tremendous  force.  In  a  col- 
lision of  this  sort,  the  heat  generated  by  the  earth  and  sun 
alone  would  suffice  to  produce  a  temperature  of  nearly  nine 
million  degrees  Fahrenheit.  Without  pursuing  the  argument 
into  further  detail,  it  is  obvious  that  the  integration  of  the 
whole  solar  system,  after  this  fashion,  would  be  followed  by 
the  complete  disintegration  of  the  matter  of  which  it  is  con- 
stituted. After  the  reunion  of  the  planets  with  the  sun, 
the  next  stage  is  the  dissipation  of  the  whole  mass  into  a 
nebula. 

If  we  now  go  back  for  a  moment  to  the  beginning,  and 
ask  what  antecedent  form  of  energy  could  have  generated 
the  motion  of  repulsion  which  sustained  our  genetic  nebula 
at  its  primitive  state  of  expansion,  the  reply  must  be  that 
nothing  but  a  rapid  evolution  of  heat  could  have  generated 
such  a  motion  of  repulsion.  And  if  we  ask  whence  came 
this  rapid  evolution  of  heat,  we  may  now  fairly  surmise  that 
it  was  due  to  some  previous  collision  of  cosmical  bodies ; 
arrested  molar  motion  being  incomparably  the  most  prolific 
known  source  of  heat.  Thus  we  get  a  glimpse  of  some  pre- 
ceding epoch  of  planetary  evolution,  from  the  final  catastrophe 
of  which  emerged  the  state  of  things  which  we  now  witness. 

We  have  here  reached  the  very  limit  of  scientific  inference. 
For  note  that,  since  the  greater  part  of  the  potential  energy 
represented  by  the  primitive  expansion  of  our  solar  nebula 


5H.  v.]  PLANE TABY  E VOL UTION.  397 

has  been  transformed  into  heat  and  radiated  away,  and  is  not 
represented  by  any  form  of  motor  energy  now  stored  ap  in 
the  solar  system,  it  follows  that  the  sudden  transformation  of 
the  penultimate  molar  motions  of  the  planets  into  heat  cannot 
result  in  the  production  of  another  nebula  so  large  as  the 
one  from  which  our  present  system  has  been  evolved.  In 
seeking  to  trace  out  the  implications  of  this  conclusion,  wo 
at  once  arrive  at  an  impassable  barrier,  which  is  only  shifted, 
but  not  overthrown,  when  we  consider  the  results  of  the 
probable  ultimate  conflict  between  our  own  system,  thus  dis- 
integrated, and  other  sidereal  systems  belonging  to  our  galaxy. 
In  order  to  give  a  complete  account  of  the  matter,  we  ought 
to  know  what  has  become  of  all  this  motor  energy  which  we 
have  been  so  prodigally  pouring  away,  in  the  shape  of  radiant 
heat,  into  the  interstellar  spaces.  Is  the  equivalent  of  this 
motor  energy  ever  to  be  restored,  or  is  the  greater  part  of  it 
forever  lost  in  the  abysses  of  infinite  space?  Before  we  can 
answer  such  a  question,  we  need  to  know  whether  the  inter- 
stellar ether,  which  is  the  vehicle  for  the  transmission  of 
molecular  motion,  is  definitely  limited  in  extent,  or  prac- 
tically infinite;  and  we  need  to  take  into  the  account  the 
dynamic  relations,  not  only  of  our  entire  galactic  system, 
but  of  other  stellar  systems,  if  such  there  are,  beyond  the 
utmost  ken  of  the  telescope.  Here  science  fails  us.  Astro- 
nomy, the  simplest  and  clearest  of  the  sciences,  becomes, 
when  treated  on  this  great  scale,  the  most  difficult  and 
obscure.  An  infinity  and  an  eternity  confront  us,  the  secrets 
of  which  we  may  not  hope  to  unravel.  At  the  outermost 
verge  to  which  scientific  methods  can  guide  us,  we  can  only 
catch  a  vague  glimpse  of  a  stupendous  rhythmical  alterna- 
tion between  eras  of  Evolution  and  eras  of  Dissolution,  suc- 
ceeding each  other  "  without  vestiges  of  a  beginning  ami 
without  prospect  of  an  end." 


CHAPTER  VL 

IBE  EVOLUTION  OP  THE  EARTH. 

In  treating  of  Evolution  in  general,  it  was  shown  how 
organic  bodies  are,  by  a  peculiar  concurrence  of  conditions, 
enabled  to  lock  up  a  great  deal  of  motion  within  a  small 
compass,  so  that  permanent  redistributions  of  structure  and 
function  can  be  effected.  From  the  decisiveness  with  which 
this  peculiar  advantage  possessed  by  organic  bodies  was 
indicated,  it  might  have  been  surmised  that  in  the  case  of 
inorganic  aggregates  an  attempt  to  trace  the  secondary 
phenomena  of  differentiation  and  integration  would  prove 
illusory,  owing  to  the  absence  of  this  concurrence  of  con- 
ditions. In  many  inorganic  bodies  it  is  true  that  there  does 
not  go  on  to  any  notable  extent  that  secondary  redistribution 
which  results  in  increase  of  heterogeneity.  The  evolution  of 
a  cloud,  a  rock,  or  a  crystal,  is  little  more  than  an  integration 
of  matter  attended  by  dissipation  of  motion.  In  the  evolu- 
tion of  the  solar  system,  on  the  other  hand,  we  have. 
witnessed  an  increase  in  heterogeneity,  defmiteness,  and 
coherence  that  is  very  marked,  though  by  no  means  so 
prominent  as  in  the  case  of  organic  evolution.  This  increase 
in  determinate  multiformity,  such  as  it  is,  is  due  to  the 
special  mechanical  principle  that  in  any  rotating  system  of 
particles,  regarded  as  practically  isolated,  a  steady  concentra- 


ch.vi.]  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  THE  EARTH.  399 

tion,  entailing  increased  rotatory  velocity,  must  end  in  the 
segregation  of  the  equatorial  zone  from  the  rest  of  the 
system.  This  principle  is  exemplified,  on  a  diminutive  scale, 
in  the  artificial  evolution  of  a  system  of  oil-globules,  whereby 
M.  Plateau  has  imitated  the  evolution  of  the  planets.  To  the 
resulting  equilibration  between  gravity  and  the  centrifugal 
tendency  at  the  place  where  the  detachment  occurred,  is  due 
the  permanence  and  definiteness  of  the  structural  different- 
iation. Owing  to  these  conditions,  and  to  its  enormous  size, 
implying  great  power  of  condensation  along  with  the  very 
slow  dissipation  of  the  heat  generated  by  the  condensation, 
the  integration  of  our  genetic  nebula  has  been  compatible 
with  the  retention  of  much  relative  motion  of  parts.  And 
here  accordingly,  as  in  all  cases  where  there  is  a  considerable 
retention  of  internal  motion,  the  secondary  rearrangements 
characteristic  of  Evolution  have  been  conspicuously  mani- 
fested. 

In  the  evolution  of  our  earth,  regarded  by  itself,  we  have  also 
to  notice  a  very  decided  progress  in  determinate  multiformity, 
even  without  taking  into  the  account  that  specialized  group  of 
terrestrial  phenomena  which  we  distinguish  as  organic.  Here 
there  have  been  two  conditions  favourable  to  the  retention  of 
enough  motion  to  allow  considerable  secondary  rearrangement 
of  parts.  In  the  first  place,  the  great  size  of  the  earth  has 
prevented  it  from  parting  too  rapidly  with  the  heat  generated 
during  its  condensation ;  and  since  the  early  formation  of  a 
solid,  poorly-conducting  crust,  the  loss  from  radiation  would 
seem  to  have  been  very  gradual.  The  importance  of  this 
circumstance  may  best  be  appreciated  by  remembering  the 
very  different  career  of  the  moon,  as  indicated  in  the  foregoing 
chapter.  The  disappearance  of  igneous  and  aqueous  agencies 
on  the  moon  implies  the  cessation  of  structural  rearrangement 
there  at  this  early  date;1  and  when  we  sought  for  an  explana- 

1  This  statement  must  be  taken,  however,  with  some  qualification,  Sea 
»bove,  p.  380. 


400  COSMIC  FIJILOSOPIIY.  [ft.  U, 

tion  of  this  state  of  things,  we  found  an  adequate  explanation 
in  the  rapid  loss  of  heat  which  the  small  size  of  the  moon 
has  entailed.  It  is  not  likely,  therefore,  that  the  moon  can 
ever  have  "been  the  theatre  of  a  geologic  and  organic  develop- 
ment so  rich  and  varied  as  that  which  the  earth  has  witnessed.1 
In  the  second  place,  the  following  chapter  will  show  that 
the  chief  circumstance  which  has  favoured  terrestrial  hetero- 
geneity has  been  the  continuous  supply  of  molecular  motion 
fn  >m  the  sun.  To  this  source  may  be  traced  all  the  aqueous 
phenomena,  save  the  tides,  which  concur  in  maintaining  the 
diversity  of  the  earth's  surface.  And  having  thus  seen  how 
a  complex  geologic  evolution  is  rendered  possible,  we  shall 
further  discern  that  organic  evolution  also — that  highly 
specialized  series  of  terrestrial  events — is  rendered  possible 
by  the  same  favouring  circumstance. 

1  An  example  of  the  too  hasty  kind  of  inference  which,  is  often  drawn  in 
discussing  the  question  of  life  upon  other  planets,  may  be  found  in  a  recent 
lucid  and  suggestive  pamphlet  by  Prof.  Winchell,  entitled  "  The  Geology  of 
the  Stars."  "  The  zoic  age  of  the  moon,"  says  the  author,  "  was  reached 
while  yet  our  world  remained,  perhaps,  in  a  glowing  condition.  Its  human 
period  was  passing  while  the  eozobn  was  solitary  occupant  of  our  primeval 
ocean. "  More  careful  reflection  will  probably  convince  us  that,  with  such  a 
rapid  succession  of  geologic  epochs,  the  moon  can  hardly  have  had  any  human 
period.  For  the  purposes  of  comparative  geology,  the  earth  and  the  moon 
may  be  regarded  as  of  practically  the  same  antiquity.  Now,  supposing  the 
earliest  ape-like  men  to  have  made  their  appearance  on  the  earth,  say  during 
the  Miocene  epoch,  we  must  remembev  that  at  that  period  the  moon  must 
have  advanced  in  refrigeration  much  farther  than  the  earth.  Supposing 
organic  evolution  to  have  gone  on  with  equal  pace  in  the  two  planets,  it  might 
be  argued  that  the  moon  would  be  fast  becoming  unfit  for  the  support  of 
organic  life  at  about  the  time  when  man  appeared  on  the  earth.  Still  more, 
it  is  a  fair  inference  from  the  theory  of  natural  selection,  that  upon  a  small 
planet  there  is  likely  to  be  a  slower  and  less  rich  and  varied  evolution  of  life 
than  upon  a  large  planet.  On  the  whole,  therefore,  it  does  not  seem  likely 
that  the  moon  can  ever  have  given  rise  to  organisms  nearly  so  high  in  tho 
scale  of  life  as  human  beings.  Long  before  it  could  have  attained  to  any  such 
point,  its  surface  is  likely  to  have  become  uninhabitable  by  air-breathing 
organisms.  Long  before  this,  no  doubt,  its  surface  air  and  water  must  have 
sunk  into  its  interior,  and  left  it  the  mere  lifeless  ember  that  it  is.  The  moon 
would  thus  appear  to  bo  not  merely  an  extinct  world,  but  a  partially  aborted 
world  ;  and  the  still  smaller  asteroids  are  perhaps  totally  aborted  worlds. 
Nevertheless,  from  the  earth  down  to  the  moon,  and  from  the  moon  down  to 
an  asteroid,  the  differences  are  at  bottom  only  differences  of  degree  ;  though 
the  differences  in  result  may  range  all  the  way  from  a  world  habitable  bv 
civilized  men  down  to  a  mere  dead  ball  of  planetary  matter.  An  interesting 
example,  if  it  be  sound,  of  the  continuity  of  cosmical  phenomena. 


ca  vi.]  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  TEE  EARTH.  401 

Let  us  now  proceed  to  note  two  or  three  conspicuous  features 
of  geologic  evolution,  remembering  that  in  so  doing  we  are  but 
following  out  a  portion  of  the  phenomena  of  planetary  evolu- 
tion discussed  in  the  preceding  chapter.  There  is  no  demar- 
cation in  the  series  of  phenomena,  save  that  which  we 
arbitrarily  introduce  for  convenience  of  study  and  exposition. 
The  process  of  integration  of  matter  and  dissipation  of  motion 
which  we  have  just  witnessed  in  the  solar  nebula  as  a  whole, 
we  have  now  to  witness  in  that  segregated  portion  of  it  which 
we  call  our  earth,  and  we  have  to  observe  how  here  also  in- 
determinate uniformity  has  been  succeeded  by  determinate 
multiformity. 

In  the  formation  of  a  solid  crust  about  the  earth,  there 
appeared  the  first  conspicuous  geologic  differentiation ;  re- 
sulting not  only  in  increased  heterogeneity,  but  in  increased 
definiteness,  as  the  crust  gradually  solidified.  For  not  only 
did  the  planet  thus  acquire  a  more  definite  figure,  but  also  a 
more  definite  movement ;  since  the  solidification  of  the  crust 
must  have  diminished  the  oblateness  of  the  spheroid,  thus 
gradually  reducing  the  disturbance  known  as  precession. 
Next  with  the  deposit  of  water  in  the  hollow  places  of  this 
crust,  there  came  the  differentiation  between  land,  sea,  and 
atmosphere ;  and  this  differentiation  became  more  marked  as 
vast  quantities  of  carbonic  acid,  precipitated  in  this  primeval 
rain,  left  the  atmosphere  purer,  and  purified  also  the  ocean 
by  segregating  its  contained  lime.  At  the  same  time  that 
this  vast  condensation  of  ocean-water  from  pre-existing  steam 
constituted  a  secondary  integration  attendant  upon  the  earth's 
loss  of  molecular  motion,  the  further  thickening  of  the  solid 
crust  began  to  entail  other  more  local  integrations.  As  Mr. 
Spencer  points  out,  while  the  earth's  crust  was  still  very  thin, 
there  could  be  neither  deep  oceans  nor  lofty  mountains  nor 
extensive  continents.  Small  islands,  barren  of  life,  washed 
by  shallow  lakes,  void  of  animate  existence,  and  covered  with 
a  dense  atmosphere,  loaded  with  carbonic  acid  and  aqueous 

VOL.  L  D   D 


402  cos:jig  ruiLOsorn  v.  [n.  u 

vapour,  must  have  characterized  the  surface  of  our  planet  at 
this  primeval  epoch.  But  as  the  ever  thickening  crust  slowly 
collapsed  about  its  contracting  contents,  mountain  ridges  of 
considerable  height  could  be  gradually  formed,  islands  could 
cohere  over  wider  and  wider  spaces,  and  deeper  basins  would 
permit  the  accumulation  of  large  bodies  of  water.  Numerous 
integrations  of  islands  into  continents,  and  of  lakes  into 
oceans,  would  thus  occur,  making  the  differentiation  of  land 
and  sea  more  distinct  and  definite.  The  integration  of  conti- 
nents and  the  rise  of  mountain  chains  in  different  directions 
must  have  enlarged  the  areas  of  denudation,  and  thus  rendered 
possible  the  integration  of  masses  of  detritus  into  extensive 
sedimentary  strata.  Differences  of  watershed  and  river- 
drainage  thus  caused  added  variety  to  the  resulting  geologic 
formations ;  and  these,  crumbling  into  soil  of  more  or  less 
richness,  afterwards  impressed  differences  upon  vegetation, 
and  thus  indirectly  upon  animal  life.  Yet  again,  the  thick- 
ening of  the  crust  must  have  added  to  the  definite  hetero- 
geneity of  the  surface  by  its  effect  upon  volcanic  phenomena. 
While  the  crust  was  still  thin,  the  angry  waves  of  liquid 
matter  imprisoned  beneath  must  have  continually  burst 
through  volcanic  vents,  suddenly  vaporizing  large  quantities 
of  surface-water,  and  causing  phenomena  similar  to  those 
now  witnessed  upon  Saturn  and  Jupiter.  As  the  crust  thick- 
ened, these  volcanic  agencies  were  more  and  more  restrained : 
craters  became  restricted  to  certain  localities  where  the  crust 
was  less  thick  than  elsewhere,  and  earthquake  waves  began  to 
run,  as  at  present,  along  definite  lines.  Those  well-regulated 
earthquake  pulses  which  raise  continents  and  ocean-floors  at 
the  rate  of  a  few  inches  or  feet  per  century,  now  began  to  in- 
crease the  definite  heterogeneity  of  the  surface.  To  the  long 
rhythms  of  elevation  and  subsidence  thus  produced  have 
been  due  countless  differentiations  in  the  directions  of  ocean- 
currents  and  continent-axes,  in  watershed,  in  the  composition 
of  sedimentary  strata,  and  in  climate.     And  to  all  these  may 


ch.  vi.]  THE  EVOLUTWN  OF  THE  EARTH.  403 

be  added  the  metamorphosis  of  sedimentary  rocks  by  volcanic 
heat,  and  the  seismic  shoving  up  of  strata  at  various  angles. 

All  these  geologic  phenomena  are  thus  seen  to  be  classifi- 
able as  differentiations  and  integrations  of  the  earth's 
superficial  matter,  caused  by  the  continuous  integration  of 
the  earth's  mass  with  its  attendant  dissipation  of  molecular 
motion.  We  may  next  note  that  meteorologic  phenomena 
are  similarly  classifiable.  Before  the  solidification  of  its 
crust,  our  planet  must  have  been  comparatively  homogeneous 
in  temperature,  owing  to  the  circulation  which  is  always 
maintained  in  masses  of  heated  fluid.  The  surface-portions 
must,  however,  have  been  somewhat  cooler  than  the  interior, 
and  this  difference  would  be  rendered  more  definite  by  the 
formation  of  the  crust,  and  by  the  subsequent  separation  of 
the  ocean  from  the  gaseous  atmosphere.  As  the  contour  of 
land  and  sea  became  more  definite  and  more  permanent, 
differences  in  temperature  between  different  parts  of  the 
surface  must  likewise  have  become  more  decided.  Neverthe- 
less the  chief  cause  of  climatic  differentiations — the  inclina- 
tion of  the  earth's  axis  — did  not  begin  to  produce  its  most 
conspicuous  effects  until  a  later  period.  As  long  as  our 
planet  retained  a  great  proportion  of  its  primitive  heat,  there 
could  have  been  little  difference  between  winter  and  summer, 
or  between  the  temperature  at  the  poles  and  at  the  equator. 
But  when  the  earth  had  lost  so  much  heat  that  its  external 
temperature  began  to  depend  chiefly  upon  the  supply  of 
solar  radiance,  then  there  commenced  a  gradual  differentia- 
tion of  climates.  There  began  to  be  a  marked  difference 
between  summer  and  winter,  and  between  arctic,  temperate, 
and  tropical  zones.  And  now  also  the  distribution  of  land 
and  sea  began  to  produce  climatic  effects,  owing  to  the  fact 
that  solar  radiance  is  both  absorbed  and  given  out  more 
rapidly  by  land  than  by  water.  Areas  of  the  earth's  surface 
where  sea  predominated  began  now  to  be  distinguished  from 
areas   where   land    predominated,   by  their    more    equable 

D  D  2 


104  COSMIC  nilLOSOrHY.  [pt.  a. 

temperature.  And  because  the  amount  of  solar  radiance 
retained  depends  upon  the  density  of  the  atmosphere,  there 
ensued  differences  of  climate  between  mountains  and  valleys, 
between  table-lands  and  low-lying  plains.  Here  too  the 
increased  heterogeneity  was  attended  by  increased  definite- 
ness  and  permanence  of  climatic  relations.  For  the  thermal 
variations,  depending  on  the  earth's  rhythmic  change  of 
position  with  reference  to  the  sun,  set  up  atmospheric 
currents  in  definite  directions  and  of  tolerably  regular 
recurrence.  Sundry  of  these  currents,  swayed  by  the  earth's 
rotatory  momentum,  became  specialized  as  trade-winds  and 
monsoons ;  while  in  the  ocean  there  went  on  a  similar 
specialization,  as  exemplified  in  the  constant  course  of  the 
Gulf  Stream  and  other  marine  currents.  The  deflniteness  of 
the  total  result,  as  well  as  its  heterogeneity,  may  be  well 
illustrated  by  any  map  of  isothermal  lines  ;  bearing  in  mind, 
as  we  must,  that  during  long  periods  these  lines  shift  only 
within  narrow  limits. 

Among  the  various  portions  of  our  earth's  surface,  more- 
over, evolution  has  brought  about  a  climatic  interdependence. 
The  dependence  of  terrestrial  temperature  upon  the  supply 
and  distribution  of  solar  radiance,  has  entailed  a  further 
dependence  of  local  temperatures  upon  one  another.  For 
example  the  warm  temperature  of  southern  Europe  is  largely 
dependent  on  the  hot  dry  winds  which  blow  from  Sahara, 
and  which  powerfully  assist  in  melting  the  glaciers  of  the 
Alps.  If  Sahara  were  to  be  submerged — as  indeed  it  has 
been  at  a  recent  epoch — these  dry  winds  would  be  replaced 
by  cooler  winds  charged  with  vapour,  which  would  condense 
into  snow  on  the  Alps,  and  thus  enlarge  the  glaciers  already 
formed  there,  instead  of  melting  them  away.  Thus  the 
climate  would  be  changed  throughout  Europe,  and  the 
direction  of  winds  would  be  altered  over  a  still  larger  area 
of  the  globe.  If  Lapland  and  the  isthmus  of  Panama  were 
to    subside  at  the  same  time,  so  that  icebergs  could  float 


ch.  v.]  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  TEE  EARTH.  405 

through  the  Baltic  to  the  coast  of  Prussia,  while  the  Gulf 
Stream  would  be  diverted  into  the  Pacific  Ocean,  the  climate 
of  Europe  might  become  glacial.  Yet  either  the  submergence 
of  Greenland,  or  the  elevation  of  the  East  Indian  Archi- 
pelago into  a  continuous  continent,  would  perhaps  suffice  to 
neutralize  all  these  agencies,  and  restore  the  genial  warmth. 
In  such  climatic  relations  we  see  vividly  illustrated  that 
kind  of  integration  which  brings  the  condition  of  each  part 
of  an  aggregate  into  dependence  upon  the  condition  of  all 
the  other  parts. 

It  is  now  sufficiently  proved  that  the  development  of  the 
earth,  like  the  development  of  the  planetary  system  to  which 
it  belongs,  has  been  primarily  an  integration  of  matter  and 
dissipation  of  motion,  and  secondarily  a  change  from  in- 
definite homogeneity  with  relative  isolation  of  parts  to 
definite  heterogeneity  with  relative  interdependence  among 
parts.  But  our  survey  of  telluric  evolution  is  as  yet  far 
from  complete.  While  enough  has  been  said  concerning  the 
redistributions  of  matter  which  have  gone  on  over  the  face 
of  the  globe,  nothing  has  been  said  concerning  the  far  move 
wonderful  and  interesting  redistributions  of  the  molecular 
motion  which  the  earth  is  continually  receiving  from  the 
sun.  Here,  as  already  briefly  hinted,  we  have  the  chief 
source  of  terrestrial  heterogeneity.  In  the  chapter  on  the 
Law  of  Evolution,  it  was  observed,  as  a  general  truth,  that 
homogeneous  forces  incident  upon  a  heterogeneous  aggregate 
undergo  differentiation  and  integration.  We  shall  now  find 
this  general  truth  beautifully  exemplified  in  the  history  of 
the  surface  of  our  planet.  At  a  remote  era  in  that  history, 
the  differentiation  and  integration  of  solar  radiance  began 
gradually  to  constitute  the  most  important  part  of  the  com- 
plex process  of  terrestrial  evolution.  We  have  now  to  show 
how  this  has  been  done ;  and  we  shall  find  it  desirable  to 
introduce  the  subject  with  an  inquiry  into  the  Sources  of 
Terrestrial  Energy. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  SOURCES  OF  TERRESTRIAL  ENERGY 

At  the  outset  we  may  state  broadly  that  all  terrestrial  energy 
is  due  either  to  direct  gravitative  force,  or  to  the  arrest  of  the 
centripetal  motion  produced  by  gravitative  force,  either  in 
the  earth  or  in  the  sun.  In  other  words,  the  entire  series  of 
terrestrial  phenomena  is  the  complex  product  of  the  earth's 
internal  heat,  combined  with  solar  radiance,  and  with  direct 
gravitative  force  exercised  by  the  moon  and  other  planets. 

Beginning  with  the  smallest  and  least  conspicuous  of  these 
sources  of  energy,  a  mere  allusion  will  suffice  for  the  effects 
wrought  upon  the  earth  by  its  companion  planets  through 
the  medium  of  their  tidal  action  upon  the  sun.  That  the 
phenomena  of  the  aurora  borealis,  as  well  as  the  periodic 
variations  in  the  position  of  the  magnetic  needle,  are  depen- 
dent upon  the  solar  spots,  is  now  a  well-established  doctrine ; 
and  it  seems  not  unlikely  that  we  shall  ere  long  succeed  in 
tracing  out  other  dependences  of  this  sort, — as  is  shown,  for 
example,  in  Mr.  Meldrum's  investigation  of  the  relations 
between  sun-spots  and  rainfall.  And  whatever  may  be  the 
final  explanation  of  the  phenomena  of  sun-spots,  there  can  be 
little  doubt  that  the  periodicity  of  these  phenomena  is 
conditioned  by  the  positions  of  the  various  planets,  and 
especially   of  the   giants   Jupiter   and  Saturn.      But  these 


ch.  vii.]       SOURCES  OF  TERRESTRIAL  ENERGY.  407 

inter-relations,  though  they  may  be  much  more  important 
than  is  as  yet  suspected,  need  not  now  detain  us.  Such 
further  effects  as  may  be  wrought  upon  the  earth  by  polarized 
light  sent  from  the  other  planets,  and  by  radiance  from  re- 
mote stellar  systems,  may  be  left  out  of  the  account.  Nor 
need  we  do  more  than  allude  to  the  moon's  gravitative  force 
as  the  chief  cause  of  the  oceanic  tides,  with  their  resultant 
geologic  phenomena.  Passing  over  all  these  circumstances, 
we  come  to  the  still  unexpended  energy  represented  by  the 
earth's  internal  heat,  concerning  which  we  need  only  say  that 
it  is  the  cause  of  the  geologic  phenomena  classed  as  igneous. 
Volcanic  eruptions,  earthquake  shocks,  elevations  and  sub- 
sidences of  continents  and  ocean -floors,  metamorphoses  of 
sedimentary  rocks,  boiling  springs,  fractures  of  strata,  and 
formations  of  metallic  veins,  are  the  various  manifestations  of 
this  form  of  terrestrial  energy. 

But  all  these  grand  phenomena  must  be  regarded  as  im- 
measurably inferior  in  variety  and  importance  to  those  which 
are  due  to  the  transformation  of  solar  radiance.  These  must 
be  described  with  somewhat  more  of  detail.  First,  with  the 
exception  of  the  changes  wrought  by  the  tides,  all  the  geo- 
logic phenomena  classed  as  aqueous  are  manifestations  of 
transformed  solar  energy.  Pulses  of  molecular  motion  pro- 
ceeding from  the  sun  are  stored  as  reserved  energy  in  masses 
of  aqueous  vapour  raised  from  the  sea.  This  energy  is  again 
partly  given  out  as  the  vapour  is  condensed  into  rain  and 
falls  to  the  ground.  The  portion  which  remains  is  expended 
in  the  transfer  of  the  fallen  water  through  the  soil,  till  it 
collects  in  rivulets,  brooks,  and  rivers,  and  gradually  descends 
to  the  ocean  whence  solar  radiance  raised  it,  bearing  along 
with  it  divers  solid  particles  which  go  to  form  sedimentary 
strata.  The  wind  which  blew  these  clouds  into  the  colder 
regions  where  they  consolidated  into  rain-drops,  was  set  in 
motion  by  solar  energy, — since  all  winds  are  caused  by  the 
unequal  heating  of  different   parts   of  the   earth's  surface. 


403  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [i"r.  n. 

Molar  motion  stored  up  in  these  vast  masses  of  moving  air  is 
given  out  not  only  in  the  driving  of  clouds,  but  also  in  the 
raking  of  waves  on  rivers  and  oceans  ;  and  it  is  still  further 
expended  in  the  wearing  away  of  shores  and  indentation  of 
eoast-lines  which  these  waves  effect.  All  the  energy  thus 
manifested  by  rains  and  rivers,  winds  and  waves,  is  trans- 
formed solar  radiance.  And  in  like  manner,  if  asked  whence 
came  the  molar  motion  exhibited  in  the  transfer  of  vast 
masses  of  sea- water  along  definite  lines,  as  in  the  Gulf  Stream 
and  other  marine  currents,  we  may  safely  answer — what- 
ever view  we  adopt  as  to  the  details  of  these  movements — 
that  it  was  originally  due  to  the  heat  which  so  rarefied  this 
water  as  to  make  it  yield  to  the  pressure  of  adjacent  colder 
and  denser  water.  And  this  heat  came  to  the  earth  in  the 
solar  rays.  Thus  all  movements  of  gaseous,  liquid,  and  solid 
matter  upon  the  earth's  surface,  except  volcanic  and  tidal 
movements,  are  simply  transformations  of  the  heat  which  is 
generated  by  the  progressive  integration  of  the  sun's  mass. 

But  this  is  not  the  end  of  the  matter.  Our  last  sentence 
implicitly  included  the  phenomena  of  life  among  those  due 
to  solar  radiance,  since  the  phenomena  of  life,  whatever 
else  they  may  be,  are  certainly  included  among  the  complex 
movements  of  gaseous,  liquid,  and  solid  matters,  which  occur 
upon  the  earth's  surface.  Let  us  note  some  of  the  various 
ways  in  which  molecular  motion,  sent  from  the  sun,  is 
metamorphosed  into  vital  energy. 

The  seed  of  a  plant,  buried  in  the  damp  earth,  grows  by 
the  integration  of  adjacent  nutritive  materials,  but  the  energy 
which  effects  this  union  consists  in  the  solar  undulations  by 
which  the  soil  is  warmed.  Diminish,  to  a  certain  extent, 
the  daily  supply  of  radiance,  as  in  the  long  arctic  and  the 
short  temperate  winters,  and  the  seed  will  refuse  to  grow. 
Though  nutritive  material  may  be  at  hand  in  abundance, 
there  is  no  molecular  motion  which  the  seed  can  absorb 
When  the  seed  grows  and  shoots  up  its  delicate  green  stalk, 


en.  vn.J        SOURCES  OF  TERRESTRIAL  ENERGY.  409 

tipped  with  a  pair  of  leaflets,  these  leaflets  begin  to  absorb 
and  transform  those  more  rapid  waves  of  the  sunbeam,  known 
as  light  and  actinism.  That  the  plant  may  continue  to  grow, 
by  assimilating  carbon  and  hydrogen,  it  is  necessary  for  the 
leaf- molecules  to  decompose  the  carbonic  acid  of  the  atmo- 
sphere, and  for  the  molecules  of  the  rootlets  to  decompose  the 
water  which  trickles  through  the  ground.  But  before  this 
can  be  done,  the  molecules  of  leaf  and  rootlet  must  acquire 
motor  energy, — and  this  is  supplied  either  directly  or  in- 
directly by  the  sunbeam.  The  slower  undulations,  penetrat- 
ing the  soil,  set  in  motion  the  atoms  of  the  rootlet,  and 
enable  them  to  shake  hydrogen-atoms  out  of  equilibrium 
with  the  oxygen-atoms  which  cluster  about  them  in  the  com- 
pound molecules  of  the  water.  The  swifter  undulations  are 
arrested  by  the  leaves,  where  they  communicate  their  motor 
energy  to  the  atoms  of  chlorophyll,  and  thus  enable  them  to 
dislodge  adjacent  atoms  of  carbon  from  the  carbonic  acid  in 
which  they  are  suspended.  And  these  chemical  motions, 
going  on  at  the  upper  and  lower  extremities  of  the  plant, 
disturb  the  equilibrium  of  its  liquid  parts,  and  thus  inaugu- 
rate a  series  of  rhythmical  molar  motions,  exemplified  in  the 
alternately  ascending  and  descending  currents  of  sap.  And 
lastly  these  molar  motions,  perpetually  replenished  from  the 
same  external  sources,  are  perpetually  expended  in  the 
molecular  integration  of  vegetable  cells  and  fibres.  Thus  all 
the  energy  stored  up  in  the  plant,  both  that  displayed  in  the 
chemical  activities  of  leaves  and  rootlets,  and  that  which  is 
displayeu  in  circulation  and  growth,  is  made  up  of  trans- 
formed sunbeams.  The  stately  trunk,  the  gnarled  roots, 
the  spreading  branches,  the  rustling  leaves,  the  delicately- 
tinted  blossoms,  and  the  tender  fruit,  are  all — as  Moleschott 
no  less  truly  than  poetically  calls  them — the  air-woven 
children  of  light. 

In  remote  geologic  ages  untold  millions   of   these   solar 
beams  were  occupied  in  separating  vast  quantities  of  carbon 


410  COSMIC  nilLOSOriJY.  [r-r.  11. 

from  the  dense  atmosphere,  and  incorporating  it  in  the  tissues 
of  innumerable  forests.  Charred  by  slow  heat,  and  gradually 
petrified,  this  woody  tissue  became  transformed  into  coal, 
which  now,  dug  up  from  its  low-lying  beds  and  burned  in 
stoves  and  furnaces,  is  compelled  to  give  up  the  radiance 
which  it  long  ago  purloined  from  the  sun.  "When  placed 
under  the  engine  boiler,  these  transformed  sunbeams  are 
again  metamorphosed  into  molar  motions  of  expanding 
vapour,  which  cause  the  rhythmic  rise  and  fall  of  the  piston, 
and  drive  the  running-gear  of  the  machine-shop  or  propel 
the  railway-train.  In  such  wise  it  may  be  shown  that  the 
various  agencies  which  man  makes  subservient  to  industrial 
purposes,  are  nothing  but  variously  differentiated  sunbeams. 
The  windmill  is  driven  by  atmospheric  currents  which  the 
sun  set  in  motion.  The  water-wheel  is  kept  whirling  by 
streams  raised  by  the  sun  to  the  heights  from  which  they 
are  rushing  down.  And  the  steam-engine  derives  its  energy 
from  modern  or  from  ancient  sunbeams,  according  as  its  fires 
are  fed  by  wood  or  by  coal. 

But  the  solar  energy  stored  up  by  vegetables  is  given  out 
not  only  in  such  mechanical  processes,  but  also  in  the  vital 
activities  of  the  human  beings  whose  needs  such  processes 
supply.  The  absolute  dependence  of  animal  upon  vegetal 
life  is  illustrated  in  the  familiar  fact  that  animals  cannot 
directly  assimilate  inorganic  compounds.  The  inorganic 
water  which  we  drink  is  necessary  to  the  maintenance  of 
life;  but  it  percolates  untransfoimi'd  through  the  tissues  and 
blood-vessels,  and  it  quits  the  organism  in  the  same  chemi- 
cal condition  in  which  it  entered  it.  And  although  minute 
quantities  of  the  salt  which  we  daily  eat,  and  of  the  car- 
bonates and  iodides  of  iron  which  we  sometimes  take  as 
tonics,  may  perhaps  undergo  transformation  in  the  tissues ; 
it  is  none  the  less  true  that  the  substance  of  our  tissues  can 
only  be  repaired  by  means  of  the  complex  albuminous  mole- 
cules which  solar  energy  originally  built  up  into  the  tissues  of 


ch.  vn.]       SOURCES  OF  TERRESTRIAL  ENERGY.  411 

vegetables.  Herbivorous  animals  in  each  of  the  great  classes, 
feed  directly  upon  vegetable  fibre,  and  so  rearrange  its  mole- 
cules that  the  resultant  tissues  are  more  highly  nitrogenous 
than  those  from  which  they  were  formed.  More  active  car- 
nivorous animals  derive  from  the  enormous  chemism  latent 
in  these  nitrogenous  fabrics  the  vital  energy  displayed  in 
their  rapid  bounds  and  in  their  formidable  grip.  But  the 
energies  which  imprisoned  this  tremendous  chemical  force  in 
the  complex  molecules  which  the  animal  assimilates,  were  at 
first  supplied  by  sunbeams.  Metamorphosed  originally  into 
the  static  energy  of  vegetable  tissue,  this  sun-derived  power 
is  again  metamorphosed  into  the  dynamic  energy  which  main- 
tains the  growth  of  the  animal  organism.  And  from  the 
same  primeval  source  comes  the  surplus  energy,  which  after 
the  demands  of  growth  or  repair  have  been  satisfied,  is  ex- 
pended in  running,  jumping,  flying,  swimming,  or  climbing, 
as  well  as  in  fighting  with  enemies  and  in  seizing  and  de- 
vouring prey. 

Besides  these  indirect  and  doubly-indirect  methods  in  which 
animals  differentiate  solar  energy,  there  are  ways  in  which 
the  metamorphosis  is  directly  effected.  To  cite  Dr.  Carpen- 
ter's conclusions,  as  epitomized  by  Mr.  Spencer : — "  The 
transformation  of  the  unorganized  contents  of  an  egg  into 
the  organized  chick,  is  altogether  a  question  of  heat :  with- 
hold heat  and  the  process  does  not  commence ;  supply  heat 
and  it  goes  on  while  the  temperature  is  maintained,  but 
ceases  when  the  egg  is  allowed  to  cool.  ...  In  the  meta- 
morphoses of  insects  we  may  discern  parallel  facts.  Experi- 
ments show  not  only  that  the  hatching  of  their  eggs  is  deter- 
mined by  temperature,  but  also  that  the  evolution  of  the 
pupa  into  the  imago  is  similarly  determined  ;  and  may  be  im- 
mensely accelerated  or  retarded  according  as  heat  is  artificially 
bupplied  or  withheld."  The  phenomena  thus  briefly  cited 
are  to  be  classed  under  the  general  head  of  organic  stimulus  ; 
uni  in  a  wide  sense,  one  might  almost  say  that  all  stimulus 


412  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  11. 

is  the  absorption  of  vital  energy  which  was  originally  solar. 
Sunlight  stimulates  animals  indirectly,  as  in  the  case  of 
actiniae  which  are  made  more  vivacious  when  neighbouring 
sea-weed,  smitten  by  sunbeams,  pours  oxygen  into  the  water 
in  which  they  move;  and  also  in  the  case  of  hard-worked 
men  who  gain  vigour  from  the  judicious  use  of  vegetable 
narcotics.  The  waves  of  motor  energy  which  the  human 
organism  absorbs  in  whiffs  of  tobacco-smoke,  are  but  a 
series  of  pulsations  of  transformed  sunlight.1  But  animals 
are  also  directly  stimulated  by  the  solar  rays,  as  in  the  cases 
of  insects  which  begin  to  fly  and  crawl  in  early  summer,  and 
of  hybernating  mammals  which  emerge  from  their  retreats  at 
the  approach  of  warm  weather.  By  its  stimulating  effect  on 
the  retina,  and  thence  on  the  medulla  oblongata,  sunlight 
quickens  the  breathing  and  circulation  in  higher  animals,  and 
thus  facilitates  the  repair  of  tissue.  In  the  night  we  exhale 
less  carbonic  acid  than  in  the  daytime.  Again  the  stunted 
growth  and  pale  sickly  faces  of  men  and  women  who  live 
in  coal-mines,  or  in  narrow  streets  and  dark  cellars,  are 
symptoms  traceable  to  anaemia,  or  to  a  deficiency  of  red 
globules  in  the  blood.  Whence  it  seems  not  improbable  that 
the  formation  of  red  globules,  like  the  formation  of  sap  in 
plants,  may  be  in  some  way  directly  assisted  by  solar  undu- 
lations. 

Mysteriously  allied  with  the  vital  phenomena  of  nutrition, 
innervation,  and  muscular  action,  are  the  psychical  pheno- 
mena of  feeling  and  thought.  Though  (as  previously  hinted 
and  as  I  shall  hereafter  endeavour  to  prove)  the  gulf  between 
the  phenomena  of  consciousness  and  all  other  phenomena  is 
an  impassable  gulf,  which  no  future  extension  of  scientific 

1  As  the  poot-ph.'losopher  Redi  says  of  wine  : — 

••  Si  bel  sangue  e  un  raggio  acceso 
Di  quel  Sol  che  in  del  vedete  ; 
E  limase  awinto  e  preso 
Di  piii  grappoli  alia  rete." 

Bacco  in  Toscaua;  0$:re,  torn.  Lp.  1 


ch.  vii.]       SOURCES  OF  TERRESTRIAL  ENERGY.  413 

knowledge  is  likely  to  bridge  over;  it  is  nevertheless  un- 
questionable both  that  every  change  in  consciousness  is  con- 
ditioned by  a  chemical  change  in  ganglionic  tissue,  and  also 
that  there  is  a  discernible  quantitative  correspondence  be- 
tween the  two  parallel  changes.  Let  us  glance  for  a  moment 
at  certain  facts  which  will  serve  to  illustrate  and  justify 
these  propositions. 

Those  changes  of  consciousness  which  are  variously  classi- 
fied as  thoughts,  feelings,  sensations,  and  emotions,  cannot 
for  a  moment  go  on  save  in  the  presence  of  certain  assign- 
able physical  conditions. 

The  first  of  these  conditions  is  complete  continuity  of 
molecular  cohesion  among  the  parts  of  nerve-tissue.  A 
nerve  which  is  cut  does  not  transmit  sensori-motor  im- 
pulses; and  even  where  the  continuity  of  molecular  equili- 
brium is  disturbed,  without  overcoming  cohesion,  as  in  a 
tied  nerve,  there  is  no  transmission.  It  is  in  the  same  way 
that  pressure  on  the  cerebrum  instantly  arrests  consciousness 
when  a  piece  of  the  skull  is  driven  in  by  a  blow,  and  slowly 
arrests  it  when  coma  is  produced  by  congestion  of  the 
cerebral  arteries.  Now  the  need  for  complete  continuity  of 
molecular  equilibrium,  both  in  the  white  and  in  the  grey 
tissue,  is  a  fact  of  no  meaning  unless  a  molecular  rearrange- 
ment is  an  indispensable  accompaniment  of  each  change  in 
consciousness. 

Secondly,  the  presence  of  a  certain  amount  of  nutritive 
material  in  the  cerebral  blood-vessels  is  essential  to  every 
change  in  consciousness  ;  and  upon  the  quantity  of  material 
present  depends,  within  certain  limits,  the  rapidity  of  the 
changes.  While  rapid  loss  of  blood  causes  fainting,  or  total 
stoppage  of  conscious  changes,  it  is  also  true  that  lowered 
nutrition,  implying  deficiency  of  blood,  retards  the  rate  and 
interferes  with  the  complication  of  mental  processes.  In  a 
'state  of  extreme  anaemia  not  only  does  thinking  go  on 
slowly,  but  the  manifold  compounding  and  recompounding 


414  COSMIC  PHTLOSOPHY.  [ft.  ii. 

of  conscious  changes,  which  is  implied  in  elaborate  quanti- 
tative reasoning,  cannot  go  on  at  all.  Now  the  need  for  the 
constant  presence  of  nutritive  material  is  a  meaningless  fact 
unless  each  change  in  consciousness  is  dependent  upon  a 
molecular  transfer  between  the  nutritive  material  and  the 
nerve-substance. 

Thirdly,  the  maintenance  of  conscious  changes  requires 
the  presence  of  certain  particular  materials  in  the  blood, 
and  the  absence,  in  any  save  the  smallest  proportions,  of 
certain  other  materials ;  while  there  are  yet  other  materials 
upon  the  presence  of  which  the  rate  and  complication  of 
conscious  changes  largely  depend.  The  familiar  fact  that 
consciousness  cannot  for  an  instant  continue  unless  oxygen 
is  in  contact  with  the  grey  tissue  of  the  cerebrum,  is  alone 
sufficient  to  prove  that  no  conscious  change  is  possible,  save 
as  the  accompaniment  of  a  chemical  change.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  presence  of  carbonic  acid  or  of  urea  in  consider- 
able quantities  retards  the  rate  and  prevents  the  elaboration 
of  thinking ;  and  in  still  larger  quantities  it  puts  an  end  to 
consciousness.  And  in  similar  wise  the  effects  of  alcohol, 
opium,  and  hemp,  as  well  as  of  that  Siberian  fungus  whose 
inhaled  vapour  makes  a  straw  in  the  pathway  look  too  large 
to  be  jumped  over,  show  us  most  vividly  how  immediate  is 
the  dependence  of  complex  mental  operations  upon  chemical 
changes. 

Fourthly,  the  fact  that  the  vigour  and  complexity  of 
mental  manifestations  bear  a  marked  ratio  to  the  weight 
of  the  brain,  to  the  amount  of  phosphorus  contained  in  its 
tissue,  and  to  the  number  and  intricacy  of  the  fine  sinuous 
creases  in  the  grey  surface  of  the  hemispheres,  shows  plainly 
that  changes  in  consciousness  are  conditioned  both  by  the 
amount  and  by  the  arrangement  of  nerve-material. 

Fifthly,  we  may  see  a  like  significance  in  the  facts  that 
the  amount  of  alkaline  phosphates  excreted  by  the  kidneys* 
varies  with  the  amount  of  mental  exertion ;  and  that  emo- 


ch.  vii.]       SOURCES  OF  TERRESTRIAL  ENERGY.  415 

tional  excitement  so  alters  the  composition  of  the  blood 
that  infants  have  been  poisoned  by  milk  secreted  by  their 
frightened  or  angry  mothers.  And  lastly  may  be  cited  the 
beautiful  experiments  of  Prof.  Lombard,  in  which  the  heat 
evolved  by  the  cerebrum  during  the  act  of  thinking  was  not 
only  detected  but  measured,  and  found  to  vary  according  to 
the  amount  of  mental  activity  going  on. 

These,  though  the  most  conspicuous,  are  but  a  few  among 
the  facts  which  force  upon  the  physiologist  the  conclusion 
that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  change  in  consciousness 
which  has  not  for  its  correlative  a  chemical  change  in 
nervous  tissue.  Hence  we  may  the  better  understand  the 
significance  of  familiar  facts  which  point  to  a  quantitative 
correlation  between  certain  states  of  consciousness  and  the 
outward  phenomena  which  give  rise  to  them.  A  bright 
light,  as  measured  by  the  photometer,  produces  a  more 
vivid  state  of  consciousness  than  a  dim  light.  Substances 
which  the  thermometer  declares  to  be  hot  are,  under  normal 
circumstances,  mentally  recognized  as  being  hot.  The  con- 
sciousness of  a  sound  varies  in  vividness  with  the  violence 
of  the  concussions  to  which  the  sound  is  due.  And  bodies 
which  are  heavy  in  the  balance  excite  in  us  correlative 
sensations  of  strain  when  we  attempt  to  move  them.  Con- 
versely the  molar  motions  by  which  our  states  of  feeling 
are  revealed  externally,  have  an  energy  proportional  to  the 
intensity  of  the  feeling ;  witness  the  undulations  indicative 
of  pain,  which,  beginning  with  a  slight  twitching  of  the 
facial  muscles,  may  end  in  spasmodic  convulsions  of  the 
whole  body.  And  of  like  import  is  the  fact  that  gentle 
emotions,  like  slight  electric  and  narcotic  stimuli,  agreeably 
quicken  the  heart's  contractions  ;  while  violent  emotions, 
suddenly  awakened,  may  stop  its  beating  as  effectually  as  a 
stroke  of  lightning  or  a  dose  of  concentrated  prussic  acid. 

The  bearings  of  such  facts  as  these  upon  our  theories  of 
mental  phenomena  will  be  duly  considered  in  future  chapters. 


416  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  II 

At  present  we  have  only  to  regard  them  as  furnishiug  con- 
clusive evidence  that  the  phenomena  which  are  subjectively 
known  as  changes  in  consciousness,  are  objectively  corre- 
lated with  molecular  motions  of  nerve-matter  which  are 
seen,  in  an  ultimate  analysis,  to  be  highly  differentiated 
forms  of  solar  radiance.  Waves  of  this  radiance,  speeding 
earthward  from  the  sun  at  the  rate  of  more  than  five  hundred 
trillions  per  second,  impart  their  motor  energy  to  the  atoms 
which  vibrate  in  unison  in  the  compound  molecules  of  the 
growing  grass.  Cattle,  browsing  on  this  grass,  and  inte- 
grating portions  of  it  with  their  tissues,  rearrange  its  mole- 
cules in  more  complex  clusters,  in  which  the  tremendous 
chemical  energy  of  heat-saturated  nitrogen  is  held  in  equili- 
brium by  the  aid  of  these  metamorphosed  sunbeams.  Man, 
assimilating  the  nitrogenous  tissues  of  the  cow,  builds  up 
these  clusters  of  molecules,  with  their  stores  of  sun-given 
and  sun-restrained  energy,  into  the  wondrously  complex 
elements  of  white  and  grey  nerve-tissue,  which  incessantly 
liberating  energy  in  decomposition,  mysteriously  enable 
him  to  trace  and  describe  a  portion  of  the  astonishing 
metamorphosis. 

When  one  takes  a  country  ramble  on  a  pleasant  summer's 
day,  one  may  fitly  ponder  upon  the  wondrous  significance  of 
this  law  of  the  transformation  of  energy.  It  is  wondrous  to 
reflect  that  all  the  energy  stored  up  in  the  timbers  of  the 
fences  and  farmhouses  which  we  pass,  as  well  as  in  the  grind- 
stone and  the  axe  lying  beside  it,  and  in  the  iron  axles  and 
heavy  tires  of  the  cart  which  stands  tipped  by  the  roadside  ; 
all  the  energy  from  moment  to  moment  given  out  by  the 
roaring  cascade  and  the  busy  wheel  that  rumbles  at  its  foot, 
by  the  undulating  stalks  of  corn  in  the  field  and  the  swaying 
branches  in  the  forest  beyond,  by  the  birds  that  sing  in  the 
tree-tops  and  the  butterflies  to  which  they  anon  give  chase 
by  the  cow  standing  in  the  brook  and  the  water  which  bathes 
her  lazy  feet,  by  the  sportsmen  who  pass  shouting  in  the 


ch.  vii.]        SOURCES  OF  TERRESTRIAL  ENERGY.  417 

distance  as  well  as  by  their  dogs  and  guns  ;  that  all  this 
multiform  energy  is  nothing  but  metamorphosed  solar  radi- 
ance, and  that  all  these  various  objects,  giving  life  and  cheer- 
fulness to  the  landscape,  have  been  built  up  into  their 
cognizable  forms  by  the  agency  of  sunbeams  such  as  those  by 
which  the  scene  is  now  rendered  visible.  We  may  well 
declare,  with  Prof.  Tyndall,  that  the  grandest  conceptions  of 
Dante  and  Milton  are  dwarfed  in  comparison  with  the  truths 
which  science  discloses.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  we  may  go 
farther  than  this,  and  say  that  we  have  here  reached  some- 
thing deeper  than  poetry.  In  the  sense  of  illimitable  vast- 
ness  with  which  we  are  oppressed  and  saddened  as  we  strive 
to  follow  out  in  thought  the  eternal  metamorphosis,  we  may 
recognize  the  modern  phase  of  the  feeling  which  led  the 
ancient  to  fall  upon  his  knees,  and  adore — after  his  own 
crude,  symbolic  fashion — the  invisible  Power  whereof  the 
infinite  web  of  phenomena  is  but  the  visible  garment. 


CHAPTER  Vllt 

THE  BEGINNINGS   OF  LIFE. 

Amid  the  chaos  of  ideas  concerning  vital  phenomena  which 
prevailed  until  quite  recent  times,  it  was  lmrdly  strange  that 
organisms,  even  of  a  high  order  of  complexity,  should  have 
been  supposed  to  be  now  and  then  directly  evolved  from  life- 
less matter,  under  favourable  circumstances.  Every  readei 
of  ancient  literature  will  remember  how  Aristseus  succeeded 
in  replacing  his  lost  swarm  of  bees ;  and  the  sanction  thus 
accorded  by  so  erudite  a  poet  as  Virgil  to  the  popular  belief 
in  the  generation  of  insects  from  putrescent  meat,  is  good 
evidence  that  the  impossibility  of  such  an  occurrence  had 
not  yet  been  suspected,  or  at  least  had  never  been  duly 
appreciated.  Still  more  important  is  the  testimony  of 
Lucretius — who,  as  Prof.  Huxley  well  says,  "  had  drunk 
deeper  of  the  scientific  spirit  than  any  other  poet  of  ancient 
or  modern  times  except  Goethe  " — when  he  alludes  to  the 
primordial  generation  of  plants  and  animals  by  the  universal 
mother  Earth.  It  is,  however,  straining  words  somewhat 
beyond  their  usual  meanings  to  call  such  speculations 
"  scientific."  They  were  the  product  of  an  almost  total 
absence  of  such  knowledge  as  is  now  called  scientific.  It 
was  possible  to  infer  that  such  highly  organized  creatures  as 
hymenopterous  insects,  suddenly  appearing  in  putrescent 
meat,  were  spontaneously  generated  there,  only  because  so 


ch.  viii.]  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  LIFE.  419 

little  was  definitely  known  about  the  relations  of  organisms 
to  one  another  and  to  the  inorganic  world.  Accordingly 
with  the  very  beginnings  of  modern  biological  knowledge, 
and  with  the  somewhat  more  cautious  and  systematic  em- 
ployment of  induction  characteristic  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  the  old  belief  in  spontaneous  generation  was  called 
in  question.  By  a  series  of  very  simple  but  apt  experiments, 
in  which  pieces  of  decaying  meat  were  protected  from 
maggots  by  a  gauze  covering,  the  illustrious  Redi  proved,  to 
the  satisfaction  of  everyone,  that  the  maggots  are  not  pro- 
duced from  the  substance  of  the  meat,  but  from  eggs  de- 
posited therein  by  flies.  So  conclusive  were  these  experi- 
ments that  the  belief  in  spontaneous  generation,  which  bad 
hitherto  rested  chiefly  upon  phenomena  of  this  sort,  was 
almost  universally  abandoned,  and  the  doctrine  that  every 
living  thing  comes  from  some  living  thing — omne  vivum  ex 
vivo — received  that  general  acceptance  which  it  was  destined 
to  retain  down  to  the  present  time.  With  the  progress  of 
biological  knowledge,  as  the  complex  structures  and  regular 
modes  of  growth  of  the  lower  animals  began  to  be  better 
understood,  and  as  the  microscope  began  to  disclose  the 
existence  of  countless  forms  of  life  infinitesimal  in  size  but 
complicated  in  organization,  many  of  which  were  proved  to 
be  propagated  either  by  fission  or  by  some  kind  of  germina- 
tion, the  doctrine  omne  vivum  ex  vivo  became  more  and  more 
implicitly  regarded  as  a  prime  article  of  faith,  and  the  hypo- 
thesis of  spontaneous  generation  was  not  merely  scouted  as 
absurd,  but  neglected  as  unworthy  of  notice. 

Philosophical  theories  conspired  with  observation  and  ex- 
periment to  bring  about  this  result.  The  doctrine  omne 
vivum  ex  vivo  consorted  well  with  the  metaphysical  hypo- 
thesis of  an  archceus  or  "  vital  principle,"  by  means  of  which 
Stahl  and  Paracelsus  sought  to  explain  the  dynamic  pheno- 
mena manifested  by  living  organisms.  In  those  days  when 
it  was   the  fashion  to  exjjlain  every  mysterious   group  of 

E  E  2 


420  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY,  [pt.  il 

phenomena  by  imagining  some  entity  behind  it,  the  activities 
displayed  by  living  bodies  were  thought  to  be  explained 
when  they  were  called  the  workings  of  a  "vitnl  principle" 
inherent  in  the  living  body,  but  distinct  from  it  and  surviv- 
ing unchanged  amid  its  manifold  alterations.  If  a  stone 
falls  to  the  ground,  that  is  a  manifestation  of  gravitativo 
force ;  but  if  a  stream  of  blood  come  rushing  through  a 
capillary  tube  and  certain  compound  molecules  of  albuminous 
matter  are  taken  from  it  and  retained  by  the  adjacent  tissue, 
then,  according  to  the  vitalistic  theory,  the  "  vital  principle  " 
is  at  work.  During  life  this  "principle"  continues  to  work; 
but  at  death  it  leaves  the  organism,  which  is  then  given  up 
to  the  mercy  of  physical  forces.  Such  was  the  theory  of  life 
which  was  held  by  many  physiologists  even  at  a  time  within 
the  recollection  of  persons  now  living;  and  it  doubtless  still 
survives  in  minds  uninstructed  in  modern  science.  So  long 
as  this  doctrine  held  undisputed  sway,  the  belief  that  all 
life  proceeds  from  life  was  not  likely  to  be  seriously  im- 
pugned. For  whence,  save  by  derivation  from  some  other 
"  principle "  like  unto  itself,  could  this  mysterious  "  vital 
principle  "  arise  ?  Besides  all  this,  the  Doctrine  of  Evolution 
had  not  yet  been  originated ;  all  things  were  supposed  to 
have  been  created  at  once  in  their  present  condition ;  and,  as 
no  need  was  felt  of  explaining  scientifically  the  origin  of 
the  highest  organisms,  so  there  was  no  disposition  to  inquire 
into  the  origin  of  those  lowest  in  the  scale.  A  series  of 
separate  creative  acts  was  supposed  to  account  for  the  whole. 
Strengthened  by  these  metaphysical  conceptions,  the  doc- 
trine omnc  vivum  ex  vivo  remained  in  possession  of  the  field  for 
two  centuries  Phenomena  apparently  at  variance  with  it — 
such  as  the  occasional  discovery  of  animalcules  in  closed 
vessels — were  disposed  of  by  the  hypothesis,  devised  by 
Spallanzani,  that  the  atmosphere  is  full  of  invisible  germs 
which  can  penetrate  through  the  smallest  crevices.  This 
hypothesis  is  currently  known  as  "panspermatism,"  or  the 


ch.  viii.]  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  LIFE.  421 

"  theory  of  omnipresent  germs,"  or  (less  cumbrously)  as  the 
"  germ-theory." 

Now,  as  concerns  the  germ-theory,  to  which  appeal  is  un- 
hesitatiugly  made  whenever  the  question  of  spontaneous 
generation  is  discussed,  it  must  be  admitted  to  be  extremely 
plausible,  yet  we  must  not  forget  that  it  has  never  been 
actually  demonstrated :  it  has  not  been  proved  that  the 
germ-theory  can  do  all  that  its  advocates  require  it  to  do. 
It  may  well  be  the  case  that  the  air  is  everywhere  full  of 
germs,  too  small  to  be  seen,  which  are  capable  of  giving 
rise  to  all  the  organisms  of  which  there  is  any  question  in 
the  controversy  about  spontaneous  generation :  nevertheless 
this  has  not  been  rigorously  demonstrated.  The  beautiful 
researches  of  Prof.  Tyndall  have  indeed  proved  that  the  atmo- 
sphere is  everywhere  filled  with  solid  particles,  in  the  absence 
of  which  it  would  not  be  luminous ;  and  it  is  fair  to  suppose 
that  among  these  particles  there  are  always  to  be  found  some 
which  are  the  germs  of  monads  and  bacteria.  Still  this  can 
hardly  be  taken  for  granted ;  and  Dr.  Bastian  is  right  in 
reminding  us  that  it  is  reasoning  in  a  circle  to  assume  the 
presence  of  germs  that  cannot  be  detected,  merely  because 
there  is  no  other  way  of  accounting  for  the  presence  of 
monads  and  bacteria  in  accordance  with  the  doctrine  of  Eedi. 

For  in  all  discussions  concerning  spontaneous  generation 
it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  doctrine  omne  vivum  ex 
vivo  is  itself  on  trial  for  its  life,  and  cannot  be  summoned 
to  the  witness-box.  The  very  point  to  be  ascertained  is 
whether  this  doctrine,  which  is  admitted  to  hold  good  in 
the  case  of  all  save  the  lowest  forms  of  life,  holds  good  also 
of  these.  The  doctrine  rests  entirely  upon  induction ;  and 
while,  in  many  cases,  it  is  legitimate  to  infer  a  universal 
proposition  from  a  limited  induction  of  instances,  it  is  not 
legitimate  to  do  so  in  the  present  case.  For  the  fact  that 
innumerable  highly  specialized  types  of  animal  and  vegetal 
life  are  kept  up  solely  by  generation  ex  vivo,  can  in  nowise 


422  COSMIC  J'JULOSOPIIY.  [n.  n. 

prove  that  other  living  things,  which  are  nearly  or  quite 
destitute  of  specialization,  may  not  have  their  ranks  recruited 
by  a  fresh  evolution  from  not-living  materials.  Along  with 
the  absence  of  specialized  structure,  it  may  turn  out  that 
there  is  an  absence  of  other  characteristics  once  supposed  to 
be  common  to  all  living  things. 

This  will  be  more  clearly  understood  as  we  proceed  to 
consider  the  change  which  the  last  half-century  has  wrought 
in  the  theories  of  life  with  which  Eedi's  doctrine  has  hitherto 
been  implicated.     The  hypothesis  of  a  "vital  principle"  is 
now  as  completely  discarded  as  the  hypothesis  of  phlogiston 
in  chemistry,  or  as  the  Ptolemaic  theory  in  astronomy :  no 
biologist  with  a  reputation  to  lose  would  for  a  moment  think 
of  defending  it.    The  great  discoveries  concerning  the  sources 
of  terrestrial  energy,  illustrated  in  the  foregoing  chapter,  have 
made  it  henceforth  impossible  for  us  to  regard  the  dynamic 
phenomena  manifested  by  living  bodies  otherwise  than  as 
resulting  from  the  manifold  compounding  of  the  molecular 
forces  with  which  their  ultimate  chemical  constituents  are 
endowed.     Henceforth  the  difference  between  a  living  and  a 
not-living  body  is  seen  to  be  a  difference  of  degree,  not  of 
kind, — a  difference  dependent  solely  on  the  far  greater  mole- 
cular complexity  of  the  former.    As  water  has  properties  that 
belong  not  to  the  gases  which  compose  it,  so  protoplasm  has 
properties  that  do  not  belong  to  the  inferior  compounds  of 
which  it  is   made  up.     The  crystal  of  quartz  has  a  shape 
which  is  the  resultant  of  the  mutual  attractions  and  repulsions 
of  its  molecules  ;  and  the  dog  has  a  shape  which  is  ultimately 
to  be  explained  in  the  same  way,  save  that  in  this  case  the  pro- 
cess has  been  immeasurably  more  complex  and  indirect.    Such, 
in  brief,  is  the   theory  by  which  the  vitalistic  doctrine  of 
Stahl  has  been  replaced.     Instead  of  a  difference  in  kind 
between  life  and  not-life,  we  get  only  a  difference  of  degree, 
bo  that  it  again  becomes  credible  that,  under  favouring  cir. 
cumstances,  not-life  may  become  life. 


ch.  vni  ]  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  LIFE.  423 

In  the  next  place  the  overthrow  of  the  dogma  of  fixity 
of  species,  and  the  consequent  general  displacement  of  the 
Doctrine  of  Creation  by  the  Doctrine  of  Evolution,  have 
made  the  scientific  world  familiar  with  the  conception  of  the 
development  of  the  more  specialized  forms  of  life  from  less 
specialized  forms ;  and  thus  the  development  of  the  least 
specialized  forms  of  life  from  the  most  complex  forms  of 
not-life  ceases  to  seem  absurd,  and  even  acquires  a  sort  of  pro- 
bability. And  finally,  the  researches  of  geologists,  showing 
that  our  earth's  surface  was  once  "  melted  with  fervent  heat," 
and  confirming  the  theory  of  the  nebular  origin  of  our  planet, 
have  rendered  it  indisputable  that  there  must  once  have  been 
a  time  when  there  was  no  life  upon  the  earth ;  so  that  cer- 
tainly at  some  time  or  other,  though  doubtless  not  by  a 
single  step  but  by  a  number  of  steps,  the  transition  irom 
not- life  to  life  must  have  been  made.  Hence  the  doctrine 
omne  vivum  ex  vivo,  as  now  held,  means  neither  more  nor  less 
than  that  every  assemblage  of  organic  phenomena  must  have 
had  as  its  immediate  antecedent  some  other  assemblage  of 
phenomena  capable  of  giving  rise  to  it :  in  other  words,  the 
doctrine  has  become  little  more  than  a  specialized  corollary 
from  the  persistence  of  force.  In  the  case  of  all  save  the 
lowest  organisms,  the  only  antecedent  phenomenon  capable  oi 
giving  rise  to  the  organism  in  question  has  been  inductively 
proved  to  be  some  other  organism.  But  in  the  case  of  the 
lowest  organisms  it  is  theoretically  possible  that  the  requisite 
antecedent  may  in  some  instances  be  an  assemblage  of  un- 
organized materials ;  and  it  remains  for  induction  to  show 
whether  this  possibility  is  ever  actually  realized  or  not, 
under  existing  terrestrial  conditions. 

Such  being  the  modification  which  modern  discoveries 
have  imposed  upon  the  doctrine  omne  vivum  ex  vivo,  it  need 
hardly  be  added  that  the  hypothesis  of  spontaneous  genera- 
tion has  undergone  a  no  less  important  change.  The  theory 
that  an  organism  which  is  to  any  extent  specialized  in  struc- 


424  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  ii. 

ture  can  arise  directly  from  a  union  of  unorganized  elements 
is  ruled  out  of  court.  Such  a  conception,  though  it  might 
be  harmonized  with  the  hypothesis  of  special  creations,  is 
utterly  coudemned  by  the  Doctrine  of  Evolution.  So  long 
as  it  was  possible  to  believe  that  enormously  complex  birds 
and  mammals  were  somehow  conjured  into  existence,  like 
Aladdin's  palace,  in  a  single  night,  by  a  kind  of  enchantment 
which  philosophers  sought  to  dignify  by  calling  it  "creative 
fiat,"  it  might  well  have  seemed  possible  for  animalcules  to 
be  spontaneously  generated  in  air-tight  flasks,  or  even  for 
maggots  to  arise  de  novo  in  decaying  meat.  Such  a  view 
might  have  been  logically  defensible,  though  it  was  not  the 
one  which  actually  prevailed.  But  now,  in  face  of  the  proved 
fact  that  thousands  of  years  are  required  to  effect  any  con- 
siderable modification  in  the  specific  structures  of  plants  and 
animals,  it  has  become  impossible  to  admit  that  such  specific 
structures  can  have  been  acquired  in  a  moment,  or  otherwise 
than  by  the  slow  accumulation  of  minute  peculiarities. 
Hence  "  spontaneous  generation "  can  be  theoretically  ad- 
mitted only  in  the  case  of  living  things  whose  grade  of  com- 
position is  so  low  that  their  mode  of  formation  from  a  liquid 
solution  may  be  regarded  as  strictly  analogous  to  that  of 
crystals.  And  when  the  case  is  thus  stated  it  becomes 
obvious  that  the  phrase  "  spontaneous  generation  "  is  anti- 
quated, inaccurate,  and  misleading.  It  describes  well  enough 
the  crude  hypothesis  that  insects  might  be  generated  in 
putrefying  substances  without  any  assignable  cause ;  but  it  is 
not  applicable  to  the  hypothesis  that  specks  of  living  proto- 
plasm may  be,  as  it  were,  precipitated  from  a  solution  con- 
taining the  not-living  ingredients  of  protoplasm.  If  such  an 
origination  of  life  can  be  proved,  none  will  maintain  that  it 
is  "  spontaneous,"  since  all  will  regard  as  the  assignable  cause 
the  chemical  affinity  exerted  between  the  enormously  com- 
plex molecules  which  go  to  make  up  the  protoplasm.  No 
one  speaks  of  "spontaneous  crystallization";  and  the  ideas 


ch.  viii.]  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  LIFE  425 

suggested  by  the  use  of  the  word  "  spontaneous  "  are  such 
as  to  detract  seriously  from  its  availableness  as  a  scientific 
terra.  We  need  a  phrase  which  shall  simply  describe  a 
fact,  without  any  admixture  of  hypothesis  ;  and  we  may 
cordially  recommend,  as  such  a  phrase,  Dr.  Bastian's  arche- 
biosis,  which,  without  violence  to  etymology,  may  be  said  to 
mean  "  life  in  its  beginning," — or,  more  freely,  "  beginning 
of  life." 

With  these  preliminaries,  the  precise  question  now  at  issue 
between  the  believers  in  "  spontaneous  generation  "  and  their 
opponents  may  be  stated  as  follows  : — Can  archebiosis  be 
made  to  occur  at  the  present  day  by  artificial  means  ?  Or,  to 
be  still  more  accurate,  Has  arehcbiosis  actually  been  made  to 
occur  at  the  present  day  by  artificial  means  ?  Is  it  possible 
for  the  experimenter,  without  any  assistance  from  life  already 
existing,  to  obtain  living  things,  merely  by  bringing  together 
the  chemical  constituents  of  protoplasm,  under  suitable  phy- 
sical conditions  ?  Or,  granting  the  possibility,  can  it  be 
proved  that  living  things  have  actually  been  thus  obtained  ? 
To  this  twofold  question  there  are  returned  diverse  answers. 
On  the  one  hand,  Dr.  Bastian  maintains  that  himself  and 
other  experimenters  have  actually  seen  archebiosis  artificially 
brought  about.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  likely  to  be  main- 
tained by  most  competent  critics  that,  while  there  may  be  no 
good  reason  for  denying  the  possibility  of  such  a  triumph  of 
experiment,  we  have  not  yet  sufficient  proof  that  it  has  been 
really  achieved. 

It  should  not  be  forgotten  that  the  decision  of  the  more 
general  question  of  the  origin  of  life  on  the  earth's  surface 
does  not  depend  upon  the  way  in  which  this  special  contro- 
versy is  decided.  While  it  is  true  that  the  success  of  ex- 
periments like  those  of  Dr.  Bastian  would  furnish  conclusive 
inductive  proof  of  archebiosis,  it  is  also  true  that  their  com- 
plete; failure  can  in  no  wise  be  cited  in  evidence  against  the 
doctrine.    On  the  one  hand,  the  artificial  production  of  living 


426  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  11. 

things,  by  giving  us  ocular  testimony  to  the  beginnings  of 
life,  would  no  doubt  enlighten  us  considerably  as  to  the 
physical  and  chemical  conditions  under  which  life  originates; 
and  it   is,   therefore,    highly   desirable   that    experimenters 
should  be  able  to  construct  living  protoplasm  in  the  labora- 
tory, just  as  it  was  desirable,  a  few  years  ago,  that  chemists 
should  be  able  to  produce  such  organic  compounds  as  alcohol, 
sugar,  and  urea, — substances  which  until  lately  were  thought 
to  be,  for  some  mysterious  reason,  inaccessible  to  human  art, 
but  which  are  now  constructed  with  ease.     But  on  the  other 
hand,   even   the   demonstrated   impossibility   of    producing 
living  things  artificially  would  not  weigh  a  grain  in  the  scale 
against  the  doctrine  that  archebiosis  may  now  occur,  and 
must  at  some  time  have  occurred,  in  the  great  laboratory  of 
nature.     That  an  evolution  of   organic  existence  from  in- 
organic existence  must  at  some  time  have  taken  place,  is 
rendered  certain  by  the  fact  that  there  was  once  a  time  when 
no  life  existed  upon  the  earth's  surface.    That  such  evolution 
may  even  now  regularly  take  place,  among  such  living  things, 
for  instance,  as  the  Bailiyhius  of  Haeckel — a  sort  of  albu- 
minous jelly  growing  in  irregular  patches  on  the  sea-bottom 
— is  perhaps  not  impossible.     But  that  such  evolution  has 
been  known  to  take  place  in  air-tight  flasks  containing  de- 
coctions of  hay,  and  has  moreover  resulted  in  the  formation 
of  organisms  like  vibrios  and  fungus-spores,  is  quite  another 
proposition,  which  the  assertor  of  archebiosis  is  in  no  way 
bound  to  maintain,  and  with  the  fate  of  which  he  need  not 
feel  himself  vitally  concerned. 

The  question  of  "  spontaneous  generation,"  then,  is  but  a 
part,  and  not  the  most  essential  part,  of  the  question  as  to 
the  origin  of  life ;  and  we  need  not  be  surprised  at  finding 
among  Dr.  Bastian's  opponents  such  an  avowed  evolutionist 
as  Prof.  Huxley.  Practically,  moreover,  the  question  at  issue 
between  the  advocates  of  "  spontaneous  generation"  and  theii 
antagonists  is  even  narrower  than  appears  from  the  above 


ch.  viii.]  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  LIFE.  427 

statement  of  it.  As  practically  conducted,  the  dispute  is 
confined  to  the  question  whether  certain  particular  low  forms 
of  life — known  as  vibrios,  bacteria,  torulse,  and  monads — 
which  appear  in  putrescence  or  in  fermentation,  are  produced 
by  archebiosis,  or  are  propagated  from  germs  conveyed  in  the 
atmosphere. 

If  Dr.  Bastian's  position  with  reference  to  this  question  is 
destined  to  become  substantiated,  his  work  may  perhaps 
mark  an  epoch  in  biology  hardly  less  important  than  that 
which  was  inaugurated  by  Mr.  Darwin's  "  Origin  of  Species." 
Unfortunately,  the  kind  of  proof  which  is  needed  for  Dr. 
Bastian's  main  thesis  is  much  more  difficult,  both  to  obtain, 
and  to  estimate  properly,  than  the  kind  of  proof  by  which 
the  theory  of  natural  selection  has  been  substantiated.  In 
the  latter  case  what  was  needed  was  some  principle  of 
interpretation  which  should  account  for  the  facts  of  the 
classification,  embryology,  morphology,  and  distribution  of 
plants  and  animals,  without  appealing  to  any  other  agencies 
than  such  as  can  be  proved  to  be  actually  in  operation ;  and 
it  is  because  the  theory  of  natural  selection  furnishes  such 
a  principle  of  interpretation  that  it  has  met  with  such  ready 
acceptance  from  the  scientific  world.1  On  the  other  hand, 
the  fate  of  the  theory  of  archebiosis,  in  the  shape  in  which 
it  is  held  by  Dr.  Bastian,  depends  upon  the  issue  of  a  series 
of  experiments  of  extraordinary  delicacy  and  difficulty, — 
experiments  which  are  of  value  only  when  performed  by 
scientific  experts  of  consummate  training,  and  which  the 
soundest  critic  of  inductive  methods  must  find  it  perilous  to 
interpret  with  confidence,  unless  he  has  had  something  of 
the  training  of  an  expert  himself.  For  however  easy  it  may 
seem  to  the  uninitiated  to  shut  up  an  organizable  solution  so 
securely  that  organic  germs  from  the  atmosphere  cannot  even 
be  imagined  capable  of  gaining  access  to  it,  this  is  really  one 
»f  the  most  arduous  tasks  which  an  experimenter  has  ever 
1  1  am  here  anticipating  the  argument  of  the  two  following  chapters. 


428  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  il 

had  set  before  liira.  Yet  to  such  rigour  of  exclusion  is  the 
inquirer  forced  who  aims  at  settling  the  question  by  the 
direct  application  of  the  Method  of  Difference.  And  thus 
the  question  at  issue  is  reduced  to  that  unpromising  state  in 
which  both  parties  to  the  dispute  are  called  upon  to  per- 
form the  apparently  hopeless  task  of  proving  a  negative. 
When  living  things  appear  in  the  isolated  solution,  the 
adherents  of  the  germ-theory  are  always  able  to  point  out 
some  imaginable  way  in  which  germs  might  have  got  in.  On 
the  other  hand,  when  the  panspermatists  adduce  instances  in 
which  no  living  things  have  been  found,  the  believers  in 
archebiosis  are  able  to  maintain  that  the  failure  was  due,  not 
to  the  complete  exclusion  of  germs  from  without,  but  to  the 
exclusion  of  some  other  physical  condition  essential  to  the 
evolution  of  living  matter.  And  from  this  closed  circle  of 
rebutting  arguments  there  seem  at  present  to  be  no  means 
of  egress. 

But  in  so  far  as  the  interpretation  of  Dr.  Bastian's  experi- 
ments is  intended  to  throw  light  upon  the  beginnings  of  life 
on  the  earth,  there  is  a  manifest  anomaly  in  the  use  of  such 
liquid  menstrua  as  the  infusions  of  hay,  turnip,  beef,  or  urine, 
which  Dr.  Bastian  ordinarily  employs.  Whatever  archebiosis 
may  occur  in  such  media  can  hardly  be  like  the  process  by 
which  living  things  first  came  into  existence ;  since  the  ex- 
istence of  the  beef  or  turnip  implies  the  previous  existence 
of  organisms  high  in  the  scale.  The  positive  detection  of 
archebiosis  in  these  and  similar  menstrua  will,  of  course, 
have  an  interest  of  its  own;  but,  as  Mr.  Spencer  well  says, 
"  a  tenable  hypothesis  respecting  the  origin  of  organic  life 
must  be  reached  by  some  other  clew  than  that  furnished  by 
experiments  on  decoction  of  hay  and  extract  of  beef."  To 
meet  this  objection  Dr.  Bastian  has  in  some  experiments  used 
only  inorganic  substances,  like  phosphate  of  soda,  and  the 
oxalate,  tartrate,  or  carbonate  of  ammonia,  in  which  the 
elements  essential  to  the  formation  of  protoplasm  are  present 


ch.  viii.]  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  LIFE.  429 

Yet  in  such  menstrua  as  these  he  believes  that  he  has  found 
even  fungus-spoves  "  spontaneously  "  generated. 

The  contrast  here  vividly  brought  before  us  draws  attention 
to  what  would  seem  to  be  one  of  the  weakest  points  in  Dr. 
Bastian's  theory.  It  is  a  long  way  from  tartrate  of  ammonia 
and  phosphate  of  soda  to  the  spores  of  a  fungus.  It  seems 
too  long  a  way  to  be  traversed  in  a  few  days  or  weeks  amid 
merely  the  simple  conditions  which  exist  within  a  closed 
flask.  A  fungus-spore  is  not  mere  shapeless  protoplasm.  In 
it,  as  in  the  bacterium  and  the  vibrio,  there  is  a  visible 
specialization  of  structure,  albeit  a  slight  specialization. 
These  infusoria  are  "  lowest  organisms,"  no  doubt :  still  they 
are  really  organisms  and  not  merely  masses  of  organic  matter. 
They  have  forms  which  are  more  or  less  persistent  ;  and  in 
this  fact  is  to  be  seen  the  strongest  of  the  objections  which 
may  be  urged  d  priori  against  Dr.  Bastian's  views.  For 
organic  form  is  a  circumstance  into  which  heredity  largely 
enters ;  and  where  we  find  organisms  even  so  simple  as  the 
jointed  rods  which  are  called  vibrios,  it  is  difficult,  on 
theoretical  grounds,  not  to  accredit  them  with  a  regular 
organic  parentage.  Such  considerations  cannot  weigh  against 
a  crucial  experiment ;  but  in  the  present  state  of  the  ques- 
tion they  are  entitled  to  serious  attention.  Dr.  Bastian  argues, 
with  great  ingenuity,  that  just  as  crystals,  growing  in  a  liquid 
menstruum,  take  on  shapes  that  are  determined  by  the  mutual 
attractions  and  repulsions  of  their  molecules,  so  do  these 
colloidal  bodies,  which  we  call  monads  and  bacteria,  arising 
by  "spontaneous  generation"  in  liquid  menstrua,  take  on 
forms  that  are  similarly  determined.  The  analogy,  however, 
is  not  exact.  I  am  not  disposed  to  deny  that  the  shape  of  a 
bacterium,  or  indeed  of  a  wasp,  a  fish,  a  dog,  or  a  man,  is 
due,  quite  as  much  as  the  shape  of  a  crystal  of  snow  or 
quartz,  to  the  forces  mutually  exerted  on  each  other  by  its 
constituent  molecules.  But  it  must  be  remembered  that  in 
the  case  of  an  organism,  the  direction  of  these  forces  depends, 


430  COSMIC  rillLOSOPIIY.  [pt.  tt. 

in  a  way  not  yet  explained,  upon  the  directions  in  which  they 
have  been  exerted  by  aucestral  organisms.  In  other  words  a 
set  of  definite  tendencies  has  been  acquired  during  the  slow 
evolution  of  organic  life ;  and  it  may  well  be  doubted  that, 
even  in  the  case  of  the  bacterium,  a  tendency  toward  the 
formation  of  single  or  double  nuclei  can  have  been  gained 
during  the  evolution  of  a  single  generation  of  individuals. 
For  in  colloidal  matter,  as  such,  there  is  no  definite  tendency 
toward  the  formation  of  nuclear  spots,  such  as  are  seen  in 
bacteria.  It  is  a  main  characteristic  of  colloids,  as  contrasted 
with  crystalloids,  not  to  have  any  specific  form.  It  is, 
therefore,  hard  to  believe  that,  during  the  decomposition  of 
some  saline  liquid,  the  freed  elements  not  only  recombine 
into  a  colloid,  but  even  go  so  far  as  to  take  on  the  specific 
shape  of  a  bacterium  or  vibrio,  When  any  such  succession 
of  phenomena  appears  to  occur,  it  clearly  points  to  the 
ill-understood  but  imperative  fact  of  heredity  through  a 
long  past. 

Until  this  difficulty  is  either  cleared  away  by  trustworthy 
deduction,  or  overridden  by  some  crucial  experiment,  I  do  not 
think  that  the  advocates  of  "  spontaneous  generation  "  can  be 
said  to  have  made  out  their  case ;  and  such  an  abstruse  ques- 
tion is  here  opened  that  it  is  not  likely  soon  to  be  settled. 

For  the  present,  in  representing  to  ourselves  how  life  may 
have  originated  upon  the  earth,  we  are  reduced  to  a  few  most 
general  considerations.  However  the  question  may  eventually 
be  decided  as  to  the  possibility  of  archebiosis  occurring  at 
the  present  day  amid  the  artificial  circumstances  of  the 
laboratory,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  archebiosis,  or  the  origi- 
nation of  living  matter  in  accordance  with  natural  laws,  must 
have  occurred  at  some  epoch  in  the  past.  That  life  has  not 
always  existed  upon  the  earth's  surface  is  certain;  and  the 
following  considerations  will  show  that  in  its  first  appear- 
ance there  need  not  have  been  anything  either  sudden  of 
abnormal. 


ch.  viii.]  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  LIFE.  431 

When  our  earth,  refusing  to  follow  in  their  retreat  the 
heavier  portions  of  the  solar  nebula,  began  its  independent 
career  as  a  planet,  its  surface  was  by  no  means  so  hetero- 
geneous as  at  present.  We  may  fairly  suppose  that  the  tem- 
perature of  that  surface  cannot  have  been  lower  than  the 
temperature  of  the  solar  surface  at  the  present  time,  which  is 
estimated  at  three  million  degrees  Fahrenheit,  or  some  four- 
teen thousand  times  hotter  than  boiling  water.  At  such  a 
temperature  there  could  have  been  no  formation  of  chemical 
compounds,  so  that  the  chief  source  of  terrestrial  hetero- 
geneity did  not  exist ;  while  physical  causes  of  heterogeneity 
were  equally  kept  in  abeyance  by  the  maintenance  of  all 
things  in  a  gaseous  state.  We  have  now  to  note  how  the 
mere  consolidation  and  cooling  of  this  originally  gaseous 
planet  must  have  given  rise  to  the  endless  variety  of  struc- 
tures, organic  as  well  as  inorganic,  which  the  earth's  surface 
now  presents.  The  origination  of  life  will  thus  appear  in  its 
proper  place,  as  an  event  in  the  chemical  history  of  the  earth. 
Let  us  see  what  must  have  been  the  inevitable  chemical 
consequences  of  the  earth's  cooling. 

In  a  large  number  of  cases  heat  is  favourable  to  chemical 
union,  as  in  the  familiar  instance  of  lighting  a  candle,  a  gas- 
jet,  or  a  wood-fire.  The  molecules  of  carbon  and  oxygen, 
which  will  not  unite  when  simply  brought  into  juxtaposition, 
nevertheless  begin  rapidly  to  unite  as  soon  as  their  rates  of 
undulation  are  heightened  by  the  intense  heat  of  the  match. 
In  like  manner  the  phosphoric  compound  with  which  the  end 
of  the  match  is  equipped  refuses  to  take  up  molecules  of  atmo- 
spheric oxygen,  until  its  own  molecules  receive  an  increment 
of  motion  supplied  by  the  arrested  molar  motion  of  the  match 
along  a  rough  surface.  So  oxygen  and  hydrogen  do  not  com- 
bine when  they  are  simply  mingled  together  in  the  same 
vessel ;  but  when  sufficiently  heated  they  explode,  and  unite 
to  farm  steam.  In  these,  and  in  many  other  cases,  a  certain 
amount  of  heat  causes  substances  to  enter  into  chemical 


432  COSMIC  rniLOSOFHT.  |M\  ii. 

union.  But  it  is  none  the  less  true  that  an  enormous  supply 
of  heat  implies  such  violent  molecular  undulation  as  to  render 
chemical  union  impossible.  Since  the  mode  of  attractive 
force  known  as  chemism  acts  only  at  infinitesimal  distances, 
the  increase  of  thermal  undulation,  which  at  first  only  causes 
such  a  molecular  rearrangement  as  to  allow  mutually- 
attracting  molecules  to  rush  together,  must  at  last  cause  such 
a  separation  of  particles  that  chemism  will  be  unable  to  act. 
This  inference  from  known  laws  of  heat  is  fully  verified  by 
experiment,  in  the  case  of  all  those  compounds  which  we  can 
decompose  by  such  thermal  means  as  we  have  at  command. 
Speaking  generally,  the  most  complex  compounds  are  the 
most  unstable,  and  these  are  the  soonest  decomposed  by  heat. 
The  highly  complex  organic  molecules  of  fibrine  and  albumen 
are  often  separated  by  the  ordinary  heat  of  a  summer's  day, 
as  is  witnessed  in  the  spoiling  of  meat.  Supersalts  and  double 
salts  are  decomposed  at  lower  temperatures  than  simple  salts  ; 
and  these  again  yield  to  a  less  amount  of  heat  than  is  re- 
quired to  sunder  the  elements  of  deutoxides,  peroxides,  etc. 
The  protoxides,  which  are  only  one  degree  more  complex  than 
simple  elements,  withstand  a  still  higher  temperature,  and 
several  of  them  refuse  to  yield  to  the  greatest  heat  which  we 
can  produce  artificially.  No  chemist,  however,  doubts  that  a 
still  greater  heat  would  decompose  even  these. 

We  may  thus  picture  to  ourselves  the  earth's  surface  as  at 
the  outset  composed  only  of  uncombined  elements,  of  free 
oxygen,  hydrogen,  nitrogen,  carbon,  sulphur,  etc.,  and  of  iron, 
copper,  sodium,  and  other  metals  in  a  state  of  vapour.  With 
the  lowering  of  this  primitive  temperature  by  radiation, 
chemical  combinations  of  greater  and  greater  heterogeneity 
became  gradually  possible.  First  appeared  the  stable  binary 
compounds,  such  as  water  and  the  inorganic  acids  and  bases. 
After  still  further  lowering  of  temperature,  some  of  the 
less  stable  compounds,  such  as  salts  and  double  salts,  were 
enabled  to  appear  on  the  scene.     At  a  later  date  came  th« 


DH.  viii.]  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  LIFE.  433 

still  more  heterogeneous  and  unstable  organic  acids  and 
ethers.  And  all  this  chemical  evolution  must  have  taken 
place  before  the  first  appearance  of  living  protoplasm.  Upon 
these  statements  we  may  rest  with  confidence,  since  they  are 
immediate  corollaries  from  known  properties  of  matter. 

When  it  is  asked,  then,  in  what  way  were  brought  about 
the  various  chemical  combinations  from  which  have  resulted 
the  innumerable  mineral  forms  which  make  up  the  crust  of 
the  globe,  the  reply  is  that  they  were  primarily  due  to  the 
unhindered  working  of  the  chemical  affinities  of  their  con- 
stituent molecules  as  soon  as  the  requisite  coolness  was 
obtained.  As  soon  as  it  became  cool  enough  for  oxygen  and 
hydrogen  to  unite  into  a  stable  compound,  they  did  unit^  to 
form  vapour  of  water.  As  soon  as  it  became  cool  enough  for 
double  salts  to  exist,  then  the  mutual  affinities  of  simple 
binary  compounds  and  single  salts,  variously  brought  into 
juxtaposition,  sufficed  to  produce  double  salts.  And  so  on, 
throughout  the  inorganic  world. 

Here  we  obtain  a  hint  as  to  the  origin  of  organic  life  upon 
the  earth's  surface.  In  accordance  with  the  modern  dynamic 
theory  of  life,  we  are  bound  to  admit  that  the  higher  and  less 
stable  aggregations  of  molecules  which  constitute  protoplasm 
were  built  up  in  just  the  same  way  in  which  the  lower  and 
mor3  stable  aggregations  of  molecules  which  constitute  a 
single  or  a  double  salt  were  built  up.  Dynamically,  the  only 
dilference  between  carbonate  of  ammonia  and  protoplasm, 
which  can  be  called  fundamental,  is  the  greater  molecular 
complexity  and  consequent  instability  of  the  latter.  We  are 
bound  to  admit,  then,  that  as  carbonic  acid  and  ammonia, 
when  brought  into  juxtaposition,  united  by  virtue  of  their 
inherent  properties  as  soon  as  the  diminishing  temperature 
would  let  them ;  so  also  carbon,  nitrogen,  hydrogen,  and 
oxygen,  when  brought  into  juxtaposition,  united  by  virtue  of 
their  inherent  properties  into  higher  and  higher  multiples  as- 
fast  as  the  diminishing  temperature  would  let  them,  until  at 

VOL.  L  F  F 


434  COXZfW  rJULOSUPHY.  [pt.  n. 

last  living  protoplasm  was  the  result  of  the  long-continued 
process. 

While  by  following  such  considerations  as  these  into  greate! 
detail  the  mode  in  which  protoplasm  must  have  arisen  may 
by  and  by  be  partially  comprehended,  it  is  at  the  same  time 
true  that  the  ultimate  mystery — the  association  of  vital  pro- 
perties with  the  enormously-complex  chemical  compound 
known  as  protoplasm — remains  unsolved.  Why  the  substance 
protoplasm  should  manifest  sundry  properties  which  are  not 
lL.riiiifested  by  any  of  its  constituent  substances,  we  do  not 
know ;  and  very  likely  we  shall  never  know.  But  whether 
the  mystery  be  for  ever  insoluble  or  not,  it  can  in  no  wise  be 
regarded  as  a  solitary  mystery.  It  is  equally  mysterious  that 
starch  or  sugar  or  alcohol  should  manifest  properties  not  dis- 
played by  their  elements,  oxygen,  hydrogen  and  carbon,  when 
uncombined.  It  is  equally  mysterious  that  a  silvery  metal 
and  a  suffocating  gas  should  by  their  union  become  trans- 
formed into  table-salt.  Yet,  however  mysterious,  the  fact 
remains  that  one  result  of  every  chemical  synthesis  is  the 
manifestation  of  a  new  set  of  properties.  The  case  of  living 
matter  or  protoplasm  is  in  nowise  exceptional. 

In  view  of  these  considerations  it  may  be  held  that  the 
evolution  of  living  things  is  a  not  improbable  concomitant  of 
the  cooling  down  of  any  planetary  body  which  contains  upon 
its  surface  the  chemical  constituents  of  living  matter.  It  may 
perhaps  turn  out  that  we  can  no  more  reproduce  in  the 
laboratory  the  precise  groups  of  conditions  under  which  living 
matter  was  first  evolved  than  we  can  obtain  direct  testimony 
as  to  the  language  and  civilization  of  our  pre-historic  ances- 
tors. But,  just  as  it  is  conceded  to  be  possible,  by  reasoning 
upon  established  philological  principles,  to  obtain  some  trust- 
worthy results  as  to  the  speech  and  culture  of  the  pre-historic 
Aryans,  so  it  must  be  admitted  that,  by  reasoning  upon  known 
'facts  in  physical  science,  we  may  get  some  glimpse  of  the 
circumstances  which  must  have  attended  the  origin  of  living 


ch.  viu.]  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  LIFE.  435 

aggregations  of  matter.  By  following  out  this  method  new 
light  will  no  doubt  eventually  be  thrown  upon  the  past  his- 
tory of  our  planet,  and  a  sound  basis  will  be  obtained  for 
conjectures  regarding  the  existence  of  living  organisms  upon 
some  of  our  neighbour  worlds. 

In  this  account  of  the  matter  we  have  completed,  so  far  as 
is  needful  for  the  purposes  of  this  work,  our  exposition  of 
the  evolution  of  the  earth.     Combining  the  results  obtained 
in  the  three  foregoing  chapters,  we  may  contemplate  in  a 
single  view  the  wonderful  advance  in  determinate  multi- 
formity which  has  resulted  from  the  integration  of  the  earth's 
matter,  with  the  accompanying  dissipation  of  its  internal 
motion.     We  have  witnessed  this  process  of  evolution  as 
manifested  in  geologic  and  meteorologic  phenomena ;  we  have 
followed  the  wondrous  differentiations  and  integrations  of  the 
molecular  motion  which  the  cooling  and  consolidating  earth 
has  received  from  the  centre  of  our  system ;  and  finally,  from 
that  very  cooling  and  consolidation  upon  which  all  the  fore- 
going phenomena  are  dependent,  we  have  shown  that  there 
must  naturally  have  ensued  a  progressive  chemical  hetero- 
geneity, resulting  at  last  in  the  genesis  of  compounds  mani- 
festing those  properties  which  we  distinguish  as  vital.     Thus 
the  continuity  in  cosmic  evolution  is  grandly  exhibited,  and 
we  see  more  clearly  than  ever  that  between  the  various  pro- 
vinces of  natural  phenomena  there  are  no  sharp  demarca- 
tions.    As  the  geologic  development  of  the  earth  is  but  a 
specialized  portion  of  the  whole  development  of  the  solar 
system, — a  portion  which  we   separate  from  the  rest  and 
assign  to  a  special  science,  solely  for  convenience  of  study ; 
so  the  development  of  living  matter  is  but  a  specialized  por- 
tion of  the  whole  development  of  the  earth,  and  it  is  only 
for  reasons  of  convenience  that  the  formation  of  primeval 
protoplasm  is  assigned  to  a  different  science  from  that  wMdh 
deals  with  the  formation  of  limestone  or  silica.     Though  as 
we  advance  from  a  lower  grade  of  heterogeneity  to  a  higher 

F  F  2 


436  COSMIO  PHILOSOPHY,  [w.  U 

grade,  we  encounter  differences  of  property  or  of  functional 
manifestation  which  we  may  broadly  classify  as  differences 
of  kind,  the  conclusion  is  nevertheless  forced  upon  us  that 
such  differences  of  kind  are  ultimately  reducible  to  dif- 
ferences of  degree,  and  that  at  bottom  there  is  no  break 
whatever  in  the  continuity  of  the  process  of  Evolution. 

It  is  not  pretended,  however,  that   these  considerations 
fulfil  all  the  requirements  of  a  scientific  explanation  of  the 
genesis  of  life.     Essentially  sound  as  I  believe  them  to  be, 
they  do  but  point  out  the  direction  in  which  an  explanation 
is  to  be  sought.     A  complete  explanation  of  the  origin  of 
life  must  include  not  only  a  statement  of  the  general  condi- 
tions  under  which   life   originated,   such   as   I   have   here 
attempted  to  offer,  but  also  a  statement  of  the  specific  com- 
bination of  circumstances  which  gave  rise  to  such  an  event. 
If  Dr.  Bastian's  theory  of   archebiosis  can  be  inductively 
established,  it  may  possibly  help  us   to  such  a  statement. 
But  the  considerations  above  adduced  make  it  probable  that 
a  wider  view  of  the  case  is  needful  than  is  implied  in  Dr. 
Bastian's  researches.      It  seems  likely  that  the  genesis  of 
living  matter  occurred  when  the  general  temperature  of  the 
earth  was  very  different  from  what  it  is  in  the  present  day  ; 
and  in  order  to  engage  in  a  profitable  course  of  experimenta- 
tion, we  must  first  seek  to  determine,  and  then  to  reproduce 
if  possible,  all  the  requisite  conditions  associated  with  that 
general  difference  in  temperature.     Whether  this   can   be 
done,  still  remains  to  be  seen.     That  the  problem  seems 
hopeless  to-day  might  have  been  to  Comte  a  sufficient  reason 
for  condemning  it  as  vain  and  profitless.     But  the  history  of 
stellar  astronomy  may  teach  us  to  beware  of  thus  hastily 
judging  the  capacity  of  the  future  by  that  of  the  present. 
Till  within  a  few  years  it  would  have  seemed  to  the  wisest 
man  incredible  that  we  should  ever  be  able  to  determine  the 
direct  approach  or  recession  of  a  star.     Yet,  from  a  quarter 
least  expected,  a  flood  of  light  has  been  shed  upon  this  most 


ch.  viii.]  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  LIFE.  437 

difficult  problem.  As  the  doe,  in  the  old  fable,  keeping  her 
sound  eye  landward,  was  at  last  shot  by  archers  passing  in  a 
boat,  so  Nature  has  here  been  forced  to  render  up  her  secret 
in  the  most  unlooked-for  way.  Through  the  amazing  result? 
obtained  by  spectrum  analysis  it  has  turned  out  that  the 
heavier  difficulty  has  become  the  lighter  one,  and  that  the 
direct  approach  or  recession  of  a  star,  which  affords  no 
parallax,  is  actually  easier  to  measure  than  its  thwart-motion 
which  affords  parallax  !  In  like  manner  the  specific  solution 
of  the  problem  of  the  origin  of  life  need  not  be  despaired  of, 
nor  need  we  wonder  if  it  come  from  some  quite  unsuspected 
quarter. 

Meanwhile  the  considerations  above  alleged  will  enable  us 
to  put  the  grand  phenomenon  of  the  genesis  of  life  into  its 
proper  place  among  the  phenomena  of  telluric  evolution. 
The  gulf  between  the  geologic  phase  of  the  process  and  the 
biologic  phase  is  so  far  bridged  for  us  that  we  may  approach 
the  study  of  the  latter  without  misgivings.  In  the  following 
chapter  I  shall  enumerate  the  reasons  which  compel  us  to 
accept  the  doctrine  of  the  derivation  of  the  more  complex 
forms  of  life  from  less  complex  forms;  and  because  of  the 
interest  which  just  now  attaches  to  the  question,  I  shall 
make  more  explicit  mention  of  the  opposing  doctrine  of 
special  creations  than  its  own  merits  would  otherwise  justify. 


CHAPTER  IX 

SPECIAL-CREATION   OT  DERIVATION  ? 

Whatever  may  be  said  in  condemnation  or  approval  of  the 
method  of  estimating  the  worth  of  men  and  women  by  an 
inquiry  into  their  pedigrees,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  there  is 
often  much  value  in  such  a  method  of  estimating  the  worth 
of  current  ideas.  Obviously  a  theory  which  was  framed  in  a 
barbarous  age,  when  men  were  alike  unfamiliar  with  the  con- 
ceptions of  physical .  causation  and  uniformity  of  law  and 
ignorant  of  the  requirements  of  a  valid  scientific  hypothesis, 
and  which  has  survived  until  the  present  day,  not  because  it 
has  been  uniformly  verified  by  observation  or  deduction,  but 
because  it  has  been  artificially  protected  from  critical  scrutiny 
by  incorporation  with  a  system  of  theological  dogmas  assumed 
to  be  infallible, — obviously  such  a  theory  is  at  the  outset 
discredited  by  its  pedigree.  A  presumption  is  at  once  raised 
against  it,  which  a  critical  examination  may  indeed  do  away 
with,  but  which  for  the  moment  cannot  fail  to  have  some 
weight  with  a  jury  of  inquirers  familiar  with  the  history  of 
human  thinking.  On  the  other  hand  a  theory  is  a  priori 
Accredited  by  its  pedigree  when  it  is  framed  in  a  cultivated 
age  by  thinkers  familiar  alike  with  the  special  phenomena 
which  form  its  subject-matter  and  with  the  requirements  of 
scientific    hypothesis    in    general;  and   when,   in   spite   of 


ch.  ix.]      SPECIAL-CREATION  OR  DERIVATION t  439 

theological  or  sentimental  prejudice,  it  so  thrives  under  the 
most  rigorous  critical  scrutiny  that  each  successive  decade 
enlists  in  its  support  a  greater  and  greater  number  of  the 
most  competent  investigators  of  nature.  I  do  not  say  that 
such  an  a  priori  presumption  should  ever  be  taken  as  decisive 
in  favour  of  any  hypothesis.  I  say  only  that  such  considera- 
tions do  have  their  weight,  and  ought  to  have  their  weight, 
in  determining  the  general  state  of  mind  which  we  bring 
to  the  discussion  of  the  relative  merits  of  two  theories  so 
different  in  their  pedigrees  as  are  the  two  theories  which  we 
are  now  about  to  examine.  If,  with  my  eyes  closed  upon  all  the 
significant  facts  which  bear  upon  the  question  of  the  origin 
of  species,  I  were  required  to  decide  between  two  hypotheses, 
of  which  the  one  was  framed  in  an  age  when  the  sky  was 
supposed  to  be  the  solid  floor  of  a  celestial  ocean,  while  the 
other  was  framed  in  an  age  when  Lagrange  and  Laplace  were 
determining  the  conditions  of  equilibrium  of  the  solar 
system,  I  should  at  once  decide,  on  general  principles,  in 
favour  of  the  latter.  And  on  general  principles  I  should  be 
quite  justified  in  so  deciding. 

Happily,  however,  we  are  not  called  upon  to  render  a 
decision,  upon  this  or  upon  any  other  scientific  question, 
with  our  eyes  shut.  In  the  present  chapter  we  have  to 
examine  two  opposing  hypotheses  relating  to  the  origination 
of  the  multitudinous  complex  forms  of  animal  and  vegetal 
life  which  surround  us.  And  of  these  two  opposing 
hypotheses  we  shall  find  it  not  difficult  to  show  that  the  one 
is  discredited,  not  only  by  its  pedigree  and  not  only  by  the 
impossible  assumptions  which  it  would  require  us  to  make, 
but  also  by  every  jot  and  tittle  of  the  scientific  evidence,  so 
far  as  known,  which  bears  upon  the  subject ;  while  the  other 
is  not  only  accredited  by  its  pedigree,  and  by  its  requiring  us 
to  make  no  impracticable  assumptions,  but  is  also  corroborated 
by  all  the  testimony  which  the  patient  interrogation  of  the 
[acts  of  nature  has  succeeded  in  eliciting.     The  former  hypo- 


440  COSMIC  1'llILOSOPHY.  [pt.  ii. 

thesis,  originating  in  the  crude  mythological  conceptions  of 
the  ancient  Hebrews,  and  uncritically  accepted  until  the  time 
of  Lamarck  and  Goethe,  in  deference  to  a  tradition  which 
invested  these  mythological  conceptions  with  a  peculiar  and 
unwarranted  sacredness,  is  known  as  the  Doctrine  of  Special 
Creations.  The  latter  hypothesis,  originating  in  the  methodical 
study  of  the  phenomena  of  organic  life,  held  by  a  large 
number  of  biologists  during  the  first  half  of  the  present 
century,  and  of  late  years  accepted  by  nearly  all,  may  be 
called  the  Doctrine  of  Derivation. 

In  describing  the  special-creation  hypothesis,  we  are  con- 
fronted by  an  initial  difficulty,  due  to  the  enormous  change 
which  has  occurred  in  men's  habits  of  thinking  since  the 
mythopceic  age  when  it  first  gained  currency.  The  Hebrew 
writer,  indeed,  presents  us  with  a  concrete  picture  of  the 
creation  of  man,  according  to  which  a  homogeneous  clay 
model  of  the  human  form  is,  in  some  inconceivable  way,  at 
once  transmuted  into  the  wonderfully  heterogeneous  combina- 
tion of  organs  and  tissues,  with  all  their  definite  and  highly 
specialized  aptitudes,  of  which  actually  living  man  is  made 
up.  But  I  suppose  there  are  few  scientific  writers  at  the 
present  day  who  would  be  found  willing  to  risk  their  reputa- 
tion for  common-sense  by  attempting  to  defend  such  a  con- 
ception. The  few  naturalists  who  still  make  a  show  of 
upholding  the  special-creation  hypothesis,  are  very  careful  to 
refrain  from  anything  like  a  specification  of  the  physical 
processes  which  that  hypothesis  may  be  supposed  to  imply. 
When  overtly  challenged,  they  find  it  safest  to  shrink  from 
the  direct  encounter,  taking  refuge  in  grandiloquent  phrases 
about  "  Creative  Will  "  and  the  "  free  action  of  an  Intelligent 
Power,"  very  much  as  the  cuttle-fish  extricates  itself  from  a 
disagreeable  predicament  by  hiding  in  a  shower  of  its  own 
ink.  But,  however  commendable  such  phrases  may  be  when 
regarded  as  a  general  confession  of  faith,  they  are  much 
worse   than   useless   when  employed   as   substitutes  for    a 


rh.  ix.l      SPECIAL-CREA1I0N  OR  DERIVATION  t  441 

scientific  description  of  facts.  They  only  serve  to  encourage 
that  besetting  sin  of  human  thinking,  which  accepts  a  play 
upon  words  as  an  equivalent  for  a  legitimate  juxtaposition  of 
valid  conceptions. 

When  translated,  however,  from  the  dialect  of  mythology 
into  the  dialect  of  science,  the  special-creation  hypothesis 
asserts  that  the  untold  millions  of  organic  molecules  of  which 
an  adult  mammal  is  composed  all  rushed  together  at  some 
appointed  instant  from  divers  quarters  of  the  compass,  and, 
spontaneously  or  in  virtue  of  some  inexplicable  divine 
sorcery,  grouped  themselves  into  the  form  of  an  adult 
organism,  some  of  them  arranging  themselves  into  infinitely 
complicated  nerve-fibres  and  ganglionic  cells,  others  into  the 
wonderfully  complex  contractile  tissue  of  muscles,  while 
others  again  were  massed  in  divers  convoluted  shapes,  as 
lungs,  intestines,  blood-vessels,  and  secreting  glands.  Or,  if 
a  different  form  of  statement  be  preferred,  at  one  moment 
we  have  a  background  of  landscape,  with  its  water  and  its 
trees,  its  sands  and  its  herbage,  and  at  the  next  succeeding 
moment  we  have  in  the  foreground  an  ox  or  a  man,  or, 
according  to  another  view,  a  herd  of  oxen  and  a  group  of 
men,  and  all  this  without  any  assignable  group  of  physical 
antecedents  intervening  !  He  who  can  believe  that  St.  Goar, 
of  Treves,  transformed  a  sunbeam  into  a  hat-peg,  or  that  men 
were  once  changed  into  werewolves  by  putting  on  an  en- 
chanted girdle,  or  that  Joshua  and  Cardinal  Ximenes  con- 
strained the  earth  to  pause  in  its  rotation,  will  probably  find 
no  difficulty  in  accepting  such  a  hypothesis  to  account  for 
the  origin  of  men  and  oxen.  To  persons  in  such  a  stage  of 
culture  it  is  no  obstacle  to  any  hypothesis  that  it  involves  an 
assumption  as  to  divine  interposition  which  is  incapable  ot 
scientific  investigation  and  uninterpretable  in  terms  of  human 
experience.  It  can  hardly  be  denied,  however,  that  any 
hypothesis  which  involves  such  an  assumption  is  at  once 
excluded  from  the  pale  of  science,  and  relegated  to  the 


442  COSMIG  PHILOSOPHY.  pt.  il 

regions  of  mythology,  where  it  may  continue  to  satisfy  tlioso 
to  whom  mythologio  interpretations  of  natural  phenomena 
still  seem  admissible,  but  can  hardly  be  deemed  of  much 
account  by  the  scientific  inquirer. 

On  the  other  hand,  according  to  the  doctrine  of  derivation, 
the  more  complex  plants  and  animals  are  the  slowly  modified 
descendants  of  less  complex  plants  and  animals,  and  these  in 
turn  were  the  slowly  modified  descendants  of  still  less  com- 
plex plants  and  animals,  and  so  on  until  we  converge  to  those 
primitive  organisms  which  are  not  definable  either  as  animal 
or  as  vegetal,  but  which  in  their  lowest  forms  are  mere  shreds 
of  jelly-like  protoplasm,  such  as  the  spontaneous  combination 
of  colloidal  clusters  of  organic  molecules  might  well  be 
capable  of  originating  under  appropriate  conditions,  after  the 
manner  pointed  out  in  the  preceding  chapter.  The  agencies 
by  which  this  slow  derivation  of  higher  from  lower  forms  has 
been  effected  are  agencies  such  as  are  daily  seen  in  opera- 
tion about  us  ;  namely,  individual  variation,  adaptation  to 
environing  circumstances,  and  hereditary  transmission  of  in- 
dividual peculiarities.  Obviously  such  a  hypothesis  is  not 
only  highly  credible  in  itself,  since  it  only  alleges  that  the 
growth  of  a  complex  organism  from  a  simple  globule  of 
protoplasm,  which  is  accomplished  in  every  case  of  individual 
evolution,  has  also  been  accomplished  during  the  evolution 
of  an  immensely  long  series  of  individuals ;  but  it  is  also  a 
purely  scientific  hypothesis,  since  it  appeals  to  no  agencies 
save  such  as  are  known  to  be  in  operation,  and  involves  no 
assumptions  which  cannot,  sooner  or  later,  be  subjected  to  a 
crucial  test. 

These  preliminary  considerations  show  how  strong  is  the 
legitimate  presumption  in  favour  of  the  theory  of  derivation. 
But  the  case  is  not  to  be  dismissed  upon  these  summary, 
though  forcible,  considerations.  To  the  general  reasons  here 
assigned  for  preferring  the  theory  of  derivation  to  the  theory 
of  special  creations,  a  scientific  survey  of  the  phenomena 


in.  ix.]      SPECIAL-CREATION  OB  DERIVATION t  443 

will  add  a  number  of  special  reasons.  Four  kinds  of  argu- 
ments in  favour  of  the  hypothesis  of  derivation  are  furnished 
respectively  by  the  Classification  of  plants  and  animals,  by 
their  Embryology,  by  their  Morphology,  and  by  their  Distri- 
bution in  space  and  time.  I  shall  devote  the  present  chapter 
to  the  consideration  of  these  four  classes  of  arguments; 
reserving  for  the  following  chapter  the  explanation  of  tha 
agencies  which  have  been  at  work  in  forwarding  the  process 
of  development. 

I.  The  facts  which  are  epitomized  in  tabular  classifications 
of  animals  and  plants,  are  so  familiar  to  us  that  we  seldom 
stop  to  reflect  upon  their  true  significance.  And  in  any  bald 
statement  of  them  which  might  here  be  made,  the  impression 
of  triteness  would  perhaps  be  so  strong  as  to  prevent  that 
significance  from  being  duly  realized,  save  by  the  student  of 
natural  history.  To  present  in  the  strongest  light  the  evi- 
dentiary value  of  these  facts,  I  shall  therefore  have  recourse 
to  an  analogous  series  of  facts  in  a  quite  distinct  science, 
where  the  significance  of  the  classification  is  illustrated  by 
the  known  history  of  the  phenomena  which  are  classified. 
Like  the  sciences  of  zoology  and  botany,  the  science  of 
philology  is  pre-eminently  a  classificatory  science,  using  the 
method  of  comparison  as  its  chief  implement  of  inductive 
research.  And  philology,  at  least  so  far  as  the  study  of  the 
Aryan  languages  is  concerned,  has  been  carried  to  such  a  high 
degree  of  scientific  perfection,  as  regards  the  accuracy  of  its 
processes  and  the  certainty  of  its  results,  that  we  may  safely 
gather  from  it  such  illustrations  as  suit  our  present  purpose. 

The  various  Aryan  or  Indo-European  languages  are  demon- 
strably descended  from  a  single  ancestral  language,  in  the 
same  sense  in  which  the  various  modern  Eomanic  languages 
are  all  descended  from  the  vulgar  Latin  of  the  Western  Em- 
pire. By  slow  dialectic  variations  in  pronunciation,  and  in 
die  use  of  syntactical  devices  for  building  up  sentences,  these 
languages  have  been  imperceptibly  differentiated  from  a  single 


444  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  it. 

primeval  language,  until  they  are  now  so  unlike  that  not  one 
of  them  is  intelligible,  save  after  careful  study,  to  the 
speakers  of  another.  The  minute  variations  of  which  the 
cumulative  result  is  this  manifold  unlikeness,  have  not  pro- 
ceeded at  haphazard;  but  they  have  all  along  been  deter- 
mined by  certain  phonetic  conditions,  which  have  been  so 
thoroughly  generalized,  that  philologists  can  now  occasionally 
reconstruct  extinct  words,  after  a  fashion  somewhat  similar 
to  that  in  which  Prof.  Huxley  would,  I  presume,  reconstruct 
an  extinct  animal  upon  seeing  one  of  its  fossilized  bones  or 
teeth. 

But  what  now  chiefly  concerns  us  is  the  fact  that  all 
existing  Aryan  languages  are  the  modified  descendants  of  a 
common  progenitor.  Bearing  this  in  mind,  let  us  note  sundry 
features  of  the  classification  of  these  languages.  In  the  first 
place,  it  is  impossible  to  arrange  them  in  any  linear  series 
which  will  truly  represent  their  relations  to  each  other.  In 
some  respects  Sanskrit  is  nearest  the  original  type,  in  other 
respects  it  is  Lithuanian  which  shows  the  least  departure,  in 
other  respects  it  is  Old  Irish,  and  in  yet  others  it  is  Latin. 
Even  if  we  decide  to  make  a  compromise,  and.  to  begin  with 
Sanskrit,  as  being  on  the  whole  the  least  modified  of  these 
languages,  we  cannot  stir  many  steps  without  getting  into 
difficulties.  Suppose  we  say  Sanskrit,  Lithuanian,  Old  Irish, 
Latin,  Old  Slavic,  Zend,  Greek,  Gothic,  Old  German.  See 
now  what  we  have  been  doing !  We  have  indeed  got  Old 
Irish  and  Latin  close  together,  as  they  ought  to  be,  and  we 
have  done  right  in  putting  Gothic  and  Old  German  side  by 
side;  but  we  have  been  obliged  to  thrust  in  half  a  dozen 
languages  between  Sanskrit  and  Zend,  and  between  Latin 
and  Greek  there  is  a  similar  unseemly  divorce.  When  we 
come  to  take  in  the  later  dialects,  the  confusion  becomes  still 
more  hopeless.  If  after  Sanskrit  we  put  in  Prakrit  and  Pali, 
Urdu  and  Bengali,  and  a  dozen  other  derivatives,  we  must 
then  jump  back  to  Latin,  for  instance,  and  after  following 


ch.  ix.]      SPECIAL-CREATION  OR  DERIVATION  445 

along  through  Italian,  Spanish,  French,  and  their  sister-dia- 
lects, jump  back  again  to  some  ancient  language.  Obviously 
this  is  violating  all  the  requirements  of  proper  classification, 
which  consists  in  putting  nearest  together  those  objects 
which  are  nearest  alike. 

In  view  of  these  and  other  kindred  difficulties,  philologists 
have  long  since  agreed  to  arrange  the  Aryan  family  of  lan- 
guages in  divergent  and  re-divergent  groups  and  sub-groups, 
along  lines  which  ramify  like  the  branches,  branchlets,  and 
twigs  of  a  tree.  Let  us  trace  the  pedigree  of  the  French  and 
English  languages,  according  to  this  principle  of  classifica- 
tion as  elaborated  by  Schleicher,  remembering  that  while 
other  philologists  have  objected  to  some  of  the  details  of  the 
classification,1  all  agree,  and  must  agree,  in  the  fundamental 
principle.  Starting,  then,  from  the  Aryan  mother-tongue, 
we  first  encounter  two  diverging  lines  of  development,  re- 
presented by  two  extinct  phases  of  language  which  we  may 
call  the  South  Aryan  and  North  Aryan.  Following  the  pro- 
gress of  the  South  Aryan,  we  find  it  diverging  on  the  one 
hand  into  Indo-Iranian,  and  on  the  other  hand  into  the 
parental  form  of  the  Hellenic,  Italic,  and  Keltic  languages. 
Neglecting  the  other  branches,  and  following  only  the  Italic, 
we  find  the  divergent  forms  of  this  exemplified  in  Umbrian, 
Oscan,  and  Latin  ;  and  again,  following  the  career  only  of  the 
latter  branch,  we  arrive  at  French  and  its  kindred  Romanic 
dialects.  On  the  other  hand,  as  we  follow  the  North  Aryan 
line,  we  find  it  first  dividing  info  Teutonic  and  Slavo-Lettish 
Neglecting  the  latter,  we  observe  the  Teutonic  again  diverg- 
ing into  Gothic,  Old  Norse,  and  Old  German.  Following 
only  the  latter  of  these,  we  may  observe  it  bifurcating  into 
High  and  Low  German,  from  the  latter  of  which  is  derived 
the  English  which  we  speak. 

1  Indeed  it  is  possible  that  the  primary  division  should  be  into  Eastern  and 
Western,  or  European  and  Asiatic,  rather  than  Northern  and  South  era  Aryan. 
But  the  future  decision  of  this  question  will  not  alter  the  principle  upon 
which  the  classification  is  founded  and  which  it  is  here  cited  to  exemplify. 


446  COSMIC  PIIILOSOril  V.  [it.  ii. 

Now  if  we  take  a  general  survey  of  this  family-tree,  we 
find  that  kindred  words  in  languages  down  near  the  trunk 
resemble  each  other  closely,  while  kindred  words  in  languages 
high  up  on  the  twigs  have  often  well-nigh  lost  all  traces  of 
their  primitive  family-likeness.  To  be  sure  we  can  still 
recognize  the  English  daughter  in  the  Sanskrit  duhitr,  but 
such  strong  resemblances  are  not  usual,  and  it  is  only  too  easy 
to  look  at  a  page  of  Sanskrit  without  realizing  its  kinship 
with  English.  But  to  show  how  the  likeness  diminishes  as 
we  recede  from  the  original  source,  let  us  consider  two 
English  words — one  of  which  has  come  to  us  by  natural 
descent,  through  the  North  Aryan  line,  while  the  other  has 
come  to  us,  by  adoption,  from  the  South  Aryan  stock.  No 
two  words  could  well  be  more  unlike  than  the  words  pen  and 
feather.  Of  these  the  latter  is  a  purely  English  word,  while 
the  former  is  a  word  we  have  adopted  from  the  Latin.  Now 
great  as  is  the  difference  between  these  two  words,  it  very 
nearly  disappears  when  we  have  recourse  to  their  Old  Aryan 
prototypes  pata-tra  and  pat-na.  Pat  is  a  word  designating 
flight.  Pata-tra  and  pat-na  are  words  designating  a  wing,  or 
instrument  used  in  flying.  In  the  course  of  the  North  Aryan  de- 
velopment pata-tra  becomes  fath-thra  and  finally  feather,  just 
as  patar  becomes  father,  in  accordance  with  a  general  tendency 
of  the  Teutonic  toward  aspirating  the  hard  mutes  of  the  old 
language  ;  while  on  the  other  hand,  in  the  course  of  the  South 
Aryan  development  pat-na  became  first  pes-na  and  then  pen-na, 
in  accordance  with  a  general  tendency  of  the  Latin  toward  the 
assimilation  of  contiguous  consonants.  Who  but  a  linguist, 
knowing  the  history  of  the  words,  and  familiar  with  the 
general  principles  of  phonetic  change,  would  suspect  that 
words  apparently  so  distinct  as  pen  and  feather  could  be  re- 
ferred so  nearly  to  a  common  origin  ?  Or  consider  the  French 
larme  and  the  English  tear.  These  words  are  demonstrably 
descended  from  the  same  ancestral  form  dahru-ma.  But 
while  the   South  Aryan  form  has  undergone   one  kind  of 


ch.  ix.]      SPECIAL-CREATION  OR  DERIVATION  1  447 

change  into  the  Latin  lacru-ma,  and  thence  into  the  Ficrau 
larme  ;  the  North  Aryan  form  has  undergone  another  kind  of 
change  into  the  Old  German  tagr,  and  thence  into  the 
English  tear. 

Thus  in  general,  as  we  go  backward  in  time,  we  find  the 
lines  of  linguistic  development  drawing  together.  Between 
the  various  Low-Dutch  dialects  spoken  along  the  north  coast 
of  German v,  the  differences  are  hardly  great  enough  to  inter- 
fere with  mutual  intelligibility.  Again,  between  Portuguese 
and  Spanish  the  differences  are  so  small  that  one  who  is  well 
acquainted  with  Spanish  can  often  get  the  sense  of  many 
pages  in  a  Portuguese  book  without  having  specially  studied 
the  latter  language.  But  German  and  Spanish  have  few 
mutually  intelligible  words  in  common,  and  their  differences 
in  idioms  and  in  structure  of  sentences  are  no  less  con- 
spicuous. While  it  might  be  possible  to  maintain  that  Dutch 
and  Platt-Deutsch,  or  that  Portuguese  and  Spanish,  are  only 
dialects  of  the  same  language,  no  one  would  hesitate  about  call- 
ing Teutonic  and  Eomance  quite  different  forms  of  language. 
Yet  we  need  only  go  back  far  enough  to  find  the  demar- 
cation quite  as  obscure  in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other  ;  for 
Teutonic  and  Romance  began  as  the  northern  and  southern 
dialects  of  the  same  Old  Aryan  language.  In  similar  wise 
we  may  say  that,  even  with  the  keenest  linguistic  instinct,  it 
would  be  difficult  to  decipher  a  line  of  modern  Persian  by 
reason  of  its  kinship  with  modern  Greek ;  while  yet  it  is 
undeniable  that  the  Persian  spoken  by  the  officers  of  Xerxes 
was  strikingly  similar  to  the  Greek  spoken  by  Demaratos 
and  Leonidas. 

In  citing  this  example  from  the  phenomena  of  language,  I 
do  not  cite  it  as  direct  testimony  in  favour  of  the  theory  of 
derivation  in  biology.  Because  tear  and  larme  can  be  traced 
back  to  a  common  form,  it  does  not  follow  that  the  pig  and 
the  horse  have  a  common  ancestor.  Yet,  wdiile  the  linguistic 
parallel  is  by  no  means  available  as  direct  testimony  in  a 


448  COSMIC  PJIILOSOrilY.  [it.  n 

biological  question,  it  has  nevertheless  a  logical  value  so  im- 
portant that  zoologists  as  eminent  as  Haeckel  and  philologists 
as  profound  as  Schleicher  have  not  failed  to  insist  upon  it. 
What  we  see  exemplified  in  these  linguistic  phenomena,  is 
the  way  in  which  a  classification  must  he  framed  in  all  cases 
where  we  have  to  express  complex  genetic  relationships.  We 
see  that  where  a  multitude  of  objects  are  associated  by  a 
common  genesis,  we  cannot  classify  them  in  a  linear  series, 
but  only  in  groups  and  sub-groups,  diverging  from  a  common 
trunk,  like  the  branches  and  twigs  of  what  we  very  aptly 
term  a  "  family-tree."  And  on  the  general  principles  of 
hereditary  relationship,  we  see  that  objects  near  the  common 
trunk  will  depart  less  widely  from  the  primitive  ancestral 
type,  and  will  therefore  resemble  each  other  more  closely, 
than  objects  far  up  on  the  ends  of  the  branches.  A  com- 
parison of  the  different  races  of  Aryan  men  would  bring  out 
the  same  results  as  the  comparison  of  their  languages.  After 
making  all  allowances  for  the  intermixture  of  the  Aryans 
with  divers  aboriginal  races  in  Europe  and  Asia,  it  remains 
generally  admitted  that  every  Aryan  language  is  spoken  by 
men  who  are  predominantly  Aryan  in  blood.  Now  it  would 
be  impossible  to  arrange  Hindus,  Greeks,  Italians,  Russians, 
Germans,  and  English,  in  any  linear  series.  We  can  only 
divide  and  subdivide,  arranging  them  in  groups  that  diverge 
and  re-diverge.  Such  must  always  be  the  case  when  we 
have  to  deal  with  phenomena  due  to  hereditary  relationship ; 
and  wherever  we  find  a  set  of  objects  thus  arranged  in 
groups  within  groups,  converging  at  the  bottom  and  diverging 
at  the  top,  we  have  the  very  strongest  possible  primd  facie 
ground  for  asserting  hereditary  relationship. 

Coming  now  to  our  main  thesis,  we  can  begin  to  appreciate 
the  strength  of  the  evidence  in  favour  of  the  derivation- 
theory,  which  is  furnished  by  the  classification  of  animals,  as 
effected  by  Cuvier  and  Von  Baer,  and  still  further  elaborated 
by  Huxley  and  Haeckel.     Previous  to  Cuvier,  many  eminent 


en.  ix.]       SPECIAL-CREATION,  OR  DERIVATION.  449 

naturalists  endeavoured  to  arrange  the  animal  kingdom  in  a 
series  of  lineally  ascending  groups.  The  illustrious  Lamarck 
did  so  ;  and  the  result  was  that  he  placed  oysters  and  snails 
higher  up  than  bees  and  butterflies.  Blainville  did  better, 
having  come  as  near  as  possible  to  surmounting  insurmount- 
able obstacles;  but  he  nevertheless  is  forced  to  put  cirrhipeds 
and  myriapoda  above  the  cuttle-fish.  It  was  a  great  step  in 
advance  when  Cuvier  showed  that  there  are  at  least  four 
distinct  types  of  animal  structure,  and  that  no  linear  series 
can  be  framed ;  although  Prof.  Agassiz  undoubtedly  trans- 
gressed the  limits  of  scientific  inquiry,  when  he  attempted  to 
explain  the  coexistence  of  these  distinct  types  by  resusci- 
tating from  its  moss-covered  tomb  the  Platonic  theory  of 
Ideas,  and  impressing  it  into  the  service  of  natural  theology. 
Nevertheless  in  his  remarkable  "Essay  on  Classification," 
Prof.  Agassiz  more  than  atones  for  these  metaphysical  aberra- 
tions by  the  conclusiveness  with  which  he  shows  the  impossi- 
bility of  making  a  linear  classification  of  animals.  In  such  a 
series,  the  lowest  of  vertebrates,  the  unintelligent  amphioxus, 
would  rank  above  the  wonderfully-organized  crabs,  ants,  and 
butterflies.  The  degraded  lepidosiren  would  take  precedence 
of  the  salmon ;  and  the  lowly-organized  duck-bill,  as  being  a 
mammal,  would  be  placed  above  the  parrot  and  the  falcon. 
Or  if  we  attempted  to  escape  these  difficulties  by  ranking 
our  animals  in  a  series  according  to  their  general  complexity 
of  organization,  neglecting  their  typical  differences  of  struc- 
ture, our  whole  classification  would  be  thrown  into  senseless 
confusion.  Parrots  and  honey-bees  would  be  thrust  in  among 
mammals,  and  not  only  classes,  but  even  orders,  and  perhaps 
families,  of  annulosa  would  have  to  be  divided,  to  make  room 
for  intrusive  echinoderms  and  mollusks. 

In  view  of  these  difficulties,  as  Prof.  Huxley  and  Prof. 
Haeckel  have  shown,  the  only  feasible  manner  of  arranging 
the  animal  kingdom  is  in  a  number  of  diverging  or  branching 
lines,  like  the  boughs  and  twigs  of  a  tree.     Starting  from  the 

VOL.  I.  G  G 


450  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  a 

amoeba  and  its  kindred,  which  are  neither  animal  nor  vegetal 
in  character,  we  encounter  two  diverging  lines  of  develop- 
ment represented  respectively — according  to  Haeckel'a  sur- 
mise— by  those  protists  with  harder  envelopes  which  are  the 
predecessors  of  the  vegetable  kingdom,  and  those  protists 
with  softer  envelopes  which  are  the  forerunners  of  the  more 
mobile  animal  type  of  organization.1  Confining  our  attention 
to  animals,  we  meet  first  with  the  ccelenterata,  including 
sponges,  corals,  and  medusa?,  characterized  by  the  union  of 
masses  of  amoeba-like  units,  with  but  little  specialization  of 
structure  or  of  function.  Beside  these  lowly  forms,  but  not 
immediately  above  any  one  of  them,  we  find  echinoderms 
starting  off  in  one  direction,  worms  or  annuloida  in  a  second, 
and  molluscoida  in  a  third.  Following  the  first  road,  we 
stop  short  with  echinoderms.  But  on  the  second,  we  find 
annuloid  worms  succeeded  by  articulata,  or  true  annulosa, 
which  re-diverge  in  sundry  directions,  reaching  the  greatest 
divergence  from  the  primitive  forms  in  the  crabs,  spiders, 
find  ants.  On  the  third  road,  we  find  the  molluscoid  worms 
diverging  into  mollusks  and  vertebrates.  On  the  one  hand, 
through  the  bryozoa  we  are  gradually  led  to  the  true  mollusks, 
while  on  the  other  hand  the  tunicata,  of  which  the  ascidian 
or  "  pitcher  "  (the  primitive  "  tadpole  "  of  unscientific  ridi- 
culers  of  Darwinism)  is  the  most  familiar  form,  lead  us 
directly  to  the  vertebrates.2     At  first  the  vertebrata  are  all 

1  Though  I  leave  this  sentence  as  it  was  written  three  years  ago,  it  must 
not  be  understood  as  an  unqualified  endorsement  of  Prof.  Haeckel's  attempt 
to  erect  a  third  kingdom — of  Protists —comprising  such  organisms  as  are 
neither  distinctively  animal  nor  vegetable.  There  is  something  to  be  said  in 
behalf  of  such  an  arrangement,  provided  no  attempt  be  made  to  draw  a  hard 
and  fast  line  between  the  protistic  and  the  two  higher  kingdoms ;  and  I  sup- 
pose that  no  follower  of  Haeckel  is  likely  to  make  such  an  attempt.  Since 
a  bacterium  or  a  vibrio  is  clearly  not  an  animal,  and  clearly  not  a  vegetable, 
while  it  is  clearly  a  living  thing,  there  would  seem  to  be  some  convenience  in 
having  a  region  to  which  to  assign  it.  I  should,  however,  regard  this 
"region"  of  protists,  or  lowest  organisms,  as  not  strictly  a  "kingdom,"  but 
rather  as  the  indefinite  border-land  between  the  animal  and  vegetal  worlds  on 
the  one  hand  and  the  realm  of  inorganic  existence  on  the  other. 

a  Kowalewsky  has  discovered  some  wonderful  likenesses  between  the  em- 
bryonic devel  >pment  of  the  ascidian  and  that  of  the  aniphioxus  or  lov»eri 


ch.  ix.]      SPECIAL-CREATION,  OR  DERIVATION!  451 

fishes,  if  such  mollusk-like  creatures  as  the  amphioxus  can 
strictly  be  included  among  fishes;  but  presently  here  too  the 
lines  begin  to  diverge,  and  we  encounter  reptiles  and  birds 
on  the  one  hand,  and  mammals  on  the  other,  all  three  being 
related  to  fishes  through  the  remarkable  structures  of  living 
and  extinct  batrachia. 

Such,  as  stated  with  crude  brevity,  is  the  classification  of 
animals  most  in  accordance  with  our  present  knowledge. 
Now  from  first  to  last,  the  farther  we  trace  any  one  line  of 
development,  the  more  widely  we  find  it  diverging  from  other 
lines  which  originated  in  the  same  point.  The  higher  insects 
and  crustaceans  are  not  at  all  like  worms  ;  but  the  myriapoda, 
the  lower  crustaceans,  and  the  caterpillars  of  higher  insects, 
are  like  worms.  Viewed  at  the  upper  ends  of  the  scale,  the 
mollusks  are  widely  different  from  the  vertebrates  :  viewed 
at  the  lower  end,  the  difference  almost  vanishes — the 
amphioxus  being  closely  similar  in  structure  to  the  ascidians, 
whose  embryos  present  rudiments  of  a  vertebral  column.  No 
two  animals  could  well  be  more  strikingly  unlike  than  a 
wren  and  an  elephant ;  yet  the  lowest  known  mammal,  the 


known  vertebrate.  Of  all  the  "missing  links,"  the  assumed  absence  of 
which  is  so  persistently  cited  by  the  adherents  of  the  dogma  of  fixity  of 
species,  the  most  important  one  would  here  appear  to  have  been  found  ;  for  it 
is  a  link  which  connects  the  complex  and  hignly-evolved  vertebrate  with  a 
very  lowly  form  which  passes  its  natural  existence  rooted  plant-like  to  the 
soil,  or  rather  to  the  sea-bottom.  The  ascidian  cannot,  indeed,  be  regarded 
is  typifying  the  direct  ancestors  of  the  vertebra ta.  It  is  a  curiously  aberrant 
and  degraded  form,  and  its  own  progenitors  had  doubtless  once  "seen  better 
lays."  In  its  embryonic  state  it  possesses  a  well-marked  vertebral  column, 
and  it  behaves  iu  general  very  much  as  if  it  were  going  to  grow  to  something 
like  the  amphioxus.  But  it  afterwards  falls  considerably  short  of  this  mark. 
Already  in  early  life  its  vertebrae  begin  to  become  "  rudimentary"  or  evanes- 
cent ;  and  when  fully  matured,  it  stops  swimming  about  after  its  prey,  and, 
striking  root  in  the  sub-marine  soil,  remains  thereafter  standing,  with  its 
broad  pitcher-like  mouth  ever  in  readiness  to  suck  down  such  organisms 
floating  by  as  may  serve  for  its  nutriment.  That  vertebrae  should  be  found  in 
the  embryo  of  such  an  animal  is  a  most  interesting  and  striking  fact.  It 
rould  seem  to  mark  the  ascidian  as  a  retrograded  offshoot  of  those  primitive 
wins  on  the  way  toward  assuming  the  vertebrate  structure,  of  which  the 
more  fortunate  ones  succeeded  in  leaving  as  their  representative  the  ani- 
t)hioxo& 

G  G  2 


452  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  it. 

Australian  cluck -bill,  possesses  many  bird-like  characteristics. 
In  the  man  and  the  oak,  we  get  perhaps  the  widest  possible 
amount  of  divergence  between  organisms;  yet  at  the  bottom 
of  the  animal  and  vegetal  kingdoms,  we  find  creatures  like 
the  amoeba  and  protococcus,  which  cannot  be  classified  as 
either  animal  or  vegetal,  because  they  are  as  much  one  as 
the  other. 

Moreover,  as  we  go  back  in  time,  we  find  the  lines  of 
development,  now  so  widely  distant  from  each  other,  con- 
tinually drawing  together.  As  a  general  rule,  extinct  animals 
are  less  specialized  than  surviving  animals  ;  and  the  same  is 
true  of  plants.  The  ancient  animal  departed  less  widely 
from  the  general  type  of  the  class  or  sub-kingdom  to  which 
he  belonged  than  the  modern  animal.  The  monotremata, 
which  of  all  mammals  are  the  least  remote  from  reptiles  and 
birds,  are  at  the  same  time  the  oldest.  In  the  teleosts  or 
true  fishes  the  differential  characteristics  of  the  vertebrate 
type  are  more  strongly  pronounced  than  in  the  older 
selachians,  to  which  order  belongs  the  shark.  Far  back,  in 
secondary  times,  we  find  lizards  strongly  resembling  fishes, 
and  other  saurian  creatures  which  differ  little  from  birds. 
Confining  our  attention  to  any  particular  group,  such  as  that 
which  embraces  the  ruminants  and  pachyderms,  we  find  the 
hipparion  of  the  Eocene  epoch  less  specialized  than  either  of 
his  later  kindred,  the  horse,  ass,  zebra,  and  quagga ;  while 
the  gap  between  such  dissimilar  animals  as  the  pig  and  the 
camel  is  to  a  great  extent  filled  by  transitional  forms  found 
in  various  tertiary  strata. 

Again,  it  hardly  needs  stating  that,  as  we  proceed  from  a 
general  survey  of  any  group  of  animals  or  plants  to  a  survey 
of  the  sub-groups  of  which  it  is  made  up,  we  find  the 
differences  constantly  growing  less  numerous  and  less  funda- 
mental. The  differences  between  the  ox  and  the  lion  are 
many  and  important ;  but  between  the  various  members  of 
the  order  caruivora,  between  the  lion  and  the  wolf  or  the 


ch.  ix.]      SPECIAL-CREATION,  Oil  DERIVATION  1  453 

bear,  the  differences  are  less.  As  we  descend  another  step, 
and  compare  lions  with  lynxes,  jaguars,  leopards  and  cats, 
which  belong  to  the  same  family,  we  find  the  points  of 
divergence  fewer  and  less  characteristic.  Between  wild  and 
domestic  cats  there  is  still  less  difference  ;  while  between  the 
various  breeds  of  the  domestic  cat  the  distinctions  are  limited 
to  superficial  characteristics  of  size,  colour,  and  general 
intelligence.  Hence,  in  classifying  contemporary  organisms 
of  high  development,  naturalists  are  never  in  doubt  as  to  the 
class,  or  order,  and  but  seldom  as  to  the  family ;  while  they 
are  not  unfrequently  in  doubt  as  to  the  genus,  and  are  con- 
tinually disputing  as  to  the  species  or  variety  to  which  a 
given  form  belongs.  As  we  descend  in  the  scale  of  develop- 
ment, and  go  back  in  geologic  time,  the  determination  of 
genera  becomes  more  and  more  difficult.  Doubts  frequently 
arise  with  reference  to  family,  order,  and  class.  And  at  last 
even  the  sub-kingdom  becomes  doubtful,  as  is  strikingly 
shown  by  the  difficulty  in  classifying  the  lowly  animals 
provisionally  grouped  by  Cuvier  as  radiata,  when  contrasted 
with  the  ease  with  which  naturalists  distinguish  the  higher 
sub-kingdoms. 

Now  all  this  complex  arrangement  of  organisms  in  groups 
within  groups,  resembling  each  other  at  the  bottom  of  the 
scale  and  differing  most  widely  at  the  top,  is  just  the  arrange- 
ment which,  as  we  have  seen,  must  result  from  genetic 
relationship  ;  and  upon  any  other  theory  than  that  of  deriva- 
tion it  is  utterly  inexplicable.  If  each  species  has  been 
separately  created,  no  reason  can  be  assigned  for  such  an 
arrangement, — unless  perchance  someone  can  be  found  hardy 
enough  to  maintain  that  it  was  intended  as  a  snare  and  a 
delusion  for  human  intelligence.  The  old  opponents  of 
geology,  who  strove  to  maintain  at  whatever  cost  the 
scientific  credit  of  the  Mosaic  myth  of  the  creation,  asserted 
that  fossil  plants  and  animals  were  created  already  dead 
and  petrified,  just    for  the  fun  of  the    thing.      Manifestly 


454  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [pt.  ii, 

those  persons  take  a  quite  similar  position,  who  pretend 
that  God  created  separately  the  horse,  ass,  zebra,  and 
quagga,  having  previously  created  a  beast  enough  like  all 
of  them  to  be  their  common  grandfather.  Indeed,  so  powerful 
is  this  argument  from  classification  that  it  has  always  seemed 
to  me  sufficient  by  itself  to  decide  the  case  in  favour  of  the 
theory  of  derivation.  In  my  own  case,  the  facts  presented 
in  Prof.  Agassiz's  "  Essay  on  Classification  "  went  far  toward 
producing  conviction  before  the  publication  of  Mr.  Darwin's 
work  on  the  "  Origin  of  Species,"  where  the  significance  of 
such  facts  is  clearly  pointed  out  and  strongly  insisted  upon. 

II.  An   equally  powerful  argument   is   furnished  by  the 
embryonic  development  of  organisms.      As  Von  Baer  long 
ago  pointed  out,  the  germs  of  all  animals  are  at  the  outset 
exactly  like  each  other ;  but  in  the  process  of  development 
each  germ  acquires  first  the  differential  characteristics  of  the 
sub-kingdom   to   which   it   belongs,   then    successively    the 
characteristics  of  its  class,  order,  family,  genus,  species,  and 
race.     For  example  the  germ-cell  of  a  man  is  not  only'  in- 
distinguishable from  the  germ- cell  of  a  dog,  a  chicken,  or  a 
tortoise,  but   it  is  like  the  adult  form  of  an  amceba  or  a 
protococcus,  which  are  nothing  but  simple  cells.     Four  weeks 
after  conception,  the  embryos  of  the  man  and  the  dog  can 
hardly  be  distinguished  from  each  other,  but  have  become 
perceptibly  different  from  the  corresponding  embryos  of  the 
chicken  and  tortoise.     At  eight  weeks  a  few  points  of  differ- 
erence  between  the  dog  and  the  man  become  perceptible; 
the  tail  is  shorter  in  the  human  embryo,  and  the  cerebrum 
and  cerebellum  have  become  larger,  relatively  to  the  corpora 
quadrigemina,  than  in  the  embryo  of  the  dog;   but  these 
differences  are  less  striking  than  those  which  separate  the 
two  mammals  on  the  one  hand  from  the  reptile  and  bird  on 
the  other.     At  a  later  stage  the  human  embryo  becomes  still 
more    unlike    that   of    the    dog,    acquiring    characteristics 
peculiar  to  the  order  of  primates   to   which  man   belongs 


ch.  ix.]      SPECIAL-CREATION,  OR  DERIVATION  1  455 

Lastly  the  foetus  of  civilized  man,  at  seven  months,  is 
entirely  human  in  appearance,  but  still  has  not  thoroughly 
acquired  the  physical  attributes  which  distinguish  the 
civilized  man  from  the  Australian  or  the  negro. 

On  the  evolution-theory  these  phenomena  are  explicable 
as  due  to  the  integration  or  summing-up  of  adaptive  pro- 
cesses, by  which  modifications  slowly  acquired  through  gene- 
rations of  ancestral  organisms  are  more  and  more  rapidly 
repeated  in  the  embryos.  Hence,  as  Prof.  Haeckel  has 
elaborately  proved,  we  must  expect  to  find  the  phenomena  of 
embryology  in  complete  harmony  with  the  facts  of  the 
geological  succession  of  organisms.  Observation  shows  that 
the  harmony  is  complete ;  and  again,  unless  we  are  to 
suppose  that  the  phenomena  of  nature  have  been  maliciously 
arranged  with  the  express  purpose  of  cheating  us,  we  have 
no  choice  but  to  accept  that  harmony  as  proof  of  the  truth 
of  the  evolution-theory. 

Kindred  evidence  is  furnished  by  the  well-known  fact  that 
many  animals,  during  their  foetal  life,  acquire  organs  like 
those  possessed  by  adults  of  allied  species,  but  which,  having 
no  functions  to  discharge,  are  after  awhile  absorbed  or 
dwindle  into  mere  rudiments.  The  mammalian  embryo  at 
first  circulates  its  blood  through  a  vascular  system  like  the 
gills  of  fishes ;  afterwards  this  is  replaced  by  a  vascular  mem- 
brane called  the  allantois,  like  the  membrane  which  replaces 
gills  in  the  development  of  birds  and  reptiles.  Neither  of 
these  structures  is  useful  to  the  embryo  for  the  purpose  of 
aerating  its  blood,  and  there  is  no  possible  explanation  of 
their  appearance  in  untold  millions  of  mammals,  unless  we 
admit  that  they  are  due  to  inheritance  from  the  amphibious 
ancestors  of  the  mammalian  class.  Of  like  meaning  are 
such  facts  as  the  presence  of  useless  teeth  in  the  jaws  of 
foetal  whales,  and  in  the  beaks  of  certain  embryonic  birds  ; 
the  rudiments  of  a  pelvis  and  hind-limbs  in  many  snakes 
the  wings,  firmly  fastened  under  their  wing-cases,  in  insect 


456  COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [ft.  It 

■which  do  not  fly;  the  caecum,  or  blind  intestine,  and  the 
terminal  vertebra?,  in  man;  and  the  incisor  teeth  in  calves 
and  other  ruminants,  which  never  cut  through  the  gum.  N< 
explanation  can  be  given  of  such  phenomena,  save  on  the 
theory  of  inheritance;  for  the  pompous  statement,  which  wo 
sometimes  hear,  that  such  organs  have  been  created  "  for  the 
sake  of  symmetry,  and  in  order  to  complete  the  scheme  of 
nature,"  is  no  explanation  at  all.  As  Mr.  Darwin  pertinently 
asks,  "Would  it  be  thought  sufficient  to  say  that  because 
planets  revolve  in  elliptic  courses  round  the  sun,  satellites 
follow  the  same  course  round  their  planets,  for  the  sake  of 
symmetry,  and  to  complete  the  scheme  of  nature  ? "  Moreover, 
if  we  were  to  rest  content  with  this  arbitrary  assumption,  we 
must  needs  confess  that  the  symmetry  of  nature  has  been  but 
imperfectly  wrought  out;  for  the  rudimentary  organs  which, 
on  this  hypothesis,  ought  always  to  be  present,  are  often 
entirely  wanting. 

In  this  connection  the  history  of  the  long  exploded  hypo- 
thesis of  Preformation  becomes  very  instructive.  The  argu- 
ment is  ably  presented  by  Mr.  Lewes,  in  a  series  of  essays  on 
Darwinism,  which  are  still  buried  among  the  back  numbers 
of  the  "  Fortnightly  Beview,"  but  which,  it  is  to  be  hoped, 
will  presently  be  reprinted  in  some  more  generally  accessible 
form.  Mr.  Lewes  calls  attention  to  the  fact  that  those  who 
still  profess  to  find  it  incredible  that  a  complex  organism 
should  have  been  developed  through  long  ages  and  through 
countless  intermediate  forms  from  a  unicellular  creature  like 
the  amoeba,  nevertheless  find  nothing  incredible  in  the  de- 
monstrated fact  that  complex  organisms  are  developed  in  a  few 
weeks  or  months  from  minute  homogeneous  germ-cells.  Now 
it  is  instructive  to  note  that  to  the  physiologists  of  a  century 
ago,  the  latter  process  of  development  seemed  quite  as  in- 
credible as  the  former.  The  process  by  which  a  structureless 
germ,  assimilating  nutriment  from  the  blood  of  the  parent 
organism,    becomes    gradually   differentiated   into    such    an 


ch.  ix.]      SPECIAL-CREATION,  OR  DERIVATION?  457 

amazingly  complex  creature  as  a  man  or  an  elephant,  was 
not  at  that  time  understood.  It  seemed  utterly  incredible 
that  a  human  infant  could  have  so  recently  been  a  simple 
globule  of  protoplasm.  It  was  accordingly  maintained  that, 
since  an  infant  resembles  an  adult  in  most  respects  save  that 
of  size,  the  original  germ  must  be  a  minute  copy  of  the 
infant.  From  the  germ  to  the  adult  man  there  was  no 
increase  in  complexity,  there  was  only  increase  in  dimen- 
sions. As  a  necessary  consequence  the  germs  of  each  genera- 
tion were  contained  within  the  germs  of  the  next  preceding 
Generation  :  so  that  in  mother  Eve  were  contained  the  minia- 
ture  originals  of  the  entire  human  race,  completely  shaped  in 
every  feature,  and  shut  up  one  within  another,  like  a  series  of 
Chinese  boxes  ! 

This  hypothesis  now  strikes  us  as  superlatively  absurd. 
But  it  has  been  upheld  by  some  of  the  greatest  biologists 
who  have  ever  lived, — by  Swammerdamm,  Haller,  Bonnet, 
Eeaumur,  and  Cuvier, — and  to  my  mind  it  is  less  grotesque 
than  the  hypothesis  of  special  creations.  But  what  now  con- 
cerns us  is  the  fact  that  the  doom  of  the  latter  hypothesis  is 
inevitably  involved  in  the  destruction  of  the  former.  For  not 
only  may  it  be  forcibly  argued  "  that  we  can  no  more  under- 
stand the  appearance  of  a  new  organism  which  is  not  the 
modification  of  some  already  existing  organism,  than  we  can 
understand  the  sudden  appearance  of  a  new  organ  which  is  not 
the  modification  of  some  existing  structure;"  but  there  was 
yet  another  deadly  weapon  lying  concealed  amid  the  mass  of 
evidence  with  which  Wolff  and  Von  Baer  overthrew  the  pre- 
formation theory.  Why  this  roundabout  method,  above 
described,  in  which  the  germs  of  the  higher  organisms  are 
seen  to  develope  ?  Why  does  a  mammal  begin  to  develope 
as  if  it  were  going  to  become  a  fish,  and  then,  changing  its 
course,  act  as  if  it  were  going  to  become  a  reptile  or  bird,  and 
only  after  much  delay  assume  the  peculiar  characteristics  of 
mammals?     The  human  embryo,  for  example,  begins  with 


458  COSMIC  miLOSOFHY.  [it.  11. 

gill-like  slits  on  each  side  of  the   neck,  up  to  which  the 
arteries  run  in  arching  branches,  as  in  a  fish  ;  the  heart  is  at 
first  a  simple  pulsating  chamber,  like  the  heart  of  the  lowest 
fishes;  at  a  later  period  there  is  a  movable  tail  considerably 
longer  than  the  legs  ;  the  great  toe  projects  sideways  from  the 
foot,  like  the  toes  of  adult  monkeys  and  apes ;  and,  during 
the  sixth  month,  the  whole  body  is  covered  very  thickly  with 
hair,  extending  even   over   the   face  and  ears,  everywhere, 
indeed,  save  on  the  lower  sides  of  the  hands  and  feet,  which 
are  also  bare  in  the  adult  forms  of  other  mammals.     In  like 
manner,  the  tadpole  of  the  black  salamander,  which  is  not 
born  until  it  is  fully  formed,  and  which  never  swims,  never- 
theless has  gills  as  elaborately  feathered  as  those  which,  in 
the   tadpoles   of    other   salamanders,  are    destined   for  use. 
Treatises  on  embryology  are  crowded  with  just  such  facts  as 
these.     Now  why  is  it  that,  in  all  cases,  before  a  complex 
organism  "  can  attain  the  structure  which  distinguishes  it, 
there  must  be  an  evolution  of  forms  which  distinguish  the 
structures  of   organisms  lower  in  the  series "  ?      "  None  of 
these  phases  have  any  adaptation  to  the  future  state  of  the 
animal ;  many  of  them  have  no  adaptation  even  to  its  em- 
bryonic  state."      On   the   hypothesis   that  each  species    of 
organisms  was  independently  built  up  by  a  Divine  Architect, 
how  are  we  to  explain  these  circuitous  proceedings  ?  "  What," 
asks  Mr.  Lewes,  "  should  we  say  to  an  architect  who  was 
unable,  or  being  able  was  obstinately  unwilling,  to  erect  a 
palace  except  by  first  using  his  materials  in  the  shape  of  a 
hut,  then  pulling  it  down  and  rebuilding  them  as  a  cottage, 
then  adding  storey  to  storey  and  room  to  room,  not  with  any 
reference  to  the  ultimate  purposes  of  the  palace,  but  wholly 
with  reference  to  the  way  in  which  houses  were  constructed 
in  ancient  times  ?     What  should  we  say  to  the  architect  who 
could  not  directly  form  a  museum  out  of  bricks  and  mortar, 
but  was  forced  to  begin  as  if  going  to  build  a  mansion  ;  and 
after  proceeding  some  way  in  this  direction,  altered  his  plan 


ch.  ix. J      SPECIAL-CREATION,  OR  DERIVATION?  458 

into  a  palace  and  that  again  into  a  museum  ?  Yet  this  is  the 
sort  of  succession  on  which  organisms  are  constructed."  It 
is  out  of  this  very  uncomfortable  corner  that  metaphysical 
naturalists  have  sometimes  attempted  to  slip,  by  gravely 
asserting  that  Nature  is  obliged  to  work  tentatively  !  Thus 
we  see  that  the  habit  of  personifying  Nature  may  sometimes 
be  made  to  serve  an  argumentative  purpose.  When  theo- 
logians are  molested  by  uncomfortable  questions  concerning 
the  existence  of  phenomena  which  seem  incompatible  with 
the  perfect  wisdom  of  an  anthropomorphic  Deity,  they  are 
wont  to  ascribe  them  to  the  Devil.  It  must  be  acknowledged 
that  metaphysical  naturalists  practise  a  mure  graceful,  though 
not  a  more  candid,  method  of  evasion,  when  they  erect 
Nature  (spelled  with  a  capital)  into  a  person  distinct  from 
phenomena,  and  coolly  ascribe  to  her  the  shortcomings  which, 
they  dare  not  lay  to  the  account  of  a  personal  Deity. 

Viewed  in  the  light  of  a  scientific  logic,  this  argument 
from  embryology,  like  the  argument  from  classification,  seems 
powerful  enough,  when  taken  alone,  to  decide  the  case  in 
favour  of  the  derivation  theory.  As  already  hinted,  these 
phenomena  are  in  general  explicable  by  the  Doctrine  of 
Evolution.  But  to  the  special-creation  hypothesis  they  are 
unmanageable  stumbling-blocks.  Even  without  any  profound 
knowledge  of  embryology,  one  may  readily  see  that  if  the 
tadpoles  of  the  black  salamander  were  anciently  born  as  tad- 
poles, and  swam  in  the  water,  they  may  still  retain  their  ex- 
quisite gills  while  nourished  to  a  later  stage  of  development 
in  the  maternal  organism.  But  on  the  opposite  theory  the 
existence  of  these  gills  is  meaningless. 

III.  The  equally  significant  facts  of  morphology  may  be 
more  concisely  presented.  Why,  unless  through  common  in- 
heritance, should  all  the  vertebrata  be  constructed  on  the  same 
type  ?  Structurally  considered,  man,  elephant,  mouse,  ostrich, 
humming-bird,  tortoise,  snake,  frog,  crocodile,  halibut,  herring, 
and  shark,  are  but  diiierent  modifications  of  one  commoij 


4G0  COSMIC  riULUXOFUY.  [pt.  il 

form.  It  is  a  familiar  fact  that  the  arms  of  men  and  apes, 
the  fore-legs  of  quadrupeds,  the  paddles  of  cetacea,  the  wings 
of  birds,  and  tin  breast-fins  of  fishes  are  structurally  identical, 
being  developed  from  the  same  embryonal  rudiments.  Ex- 
ternally there  is  but  little  resemblance  between  the  human 
hand  and  the  hoof  of  a  horse  ;  yet  anatomy  shows  that  the 
horse's  hoof  is  made  up  of  claws  or  fingers  firmly  soldered 
together.  Turning  to  the  annulosa,  we  find  that  all  insects 
and  crustaceans — dragon-flies  and  mosquitoes  as  well  as  crabs 
and  shrimps— are  composed  of  just  twenty  segments.  "  What 
now,"  asks  Mr.  Spencer,  "  can  be  the  meaning  of  this  com- 
munity of  structure  among  these  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
species  rilling  the  air,  burrowing  in  the  earth,  swimming  in 
the  water,  creeping  about  among  the  sea- weed,  and  having 
such  enormous  differences  of  size,  outline  and  substance,  that 
no  community  would  be  suspected  between  them  ?  Why, 
under  the  down-covered'  body  of  the  moth  and  under  the  hard 
wing-cases  of  the  beetle,  should  there  be  discovered  the  same 
number  of  divisions  as  in  the  calcareous  framework  of  the 
lobster?"  But  two  answers  are  possible.  We  may  either  say, 
with  the  Mussulman,  "  it  so  pleased  Allah,  whose  name  be 
exalted ; "  or  we  may  honestly  acknowledge  the  scientific  im- 
plication that  such  community  of  structure  is  strong  evidence 
in  favour  of  community  of  origin. 

IV.  The  facts  of  geographical  distribution  and  geological 
succession  are  likewise  in  complete  harmony  with  the  develop- 
ment theory.  On  the  hypothesis  of  special  creations,  no  good 
reason  can  be  given  why  the  extinct  animals  found  in  any 
geographical  area  should  resemble,  both  in  general  structure 
and  in  special  modifications,  the  animals  which  now  live  in 
the  same  area.  Thus  the  fossil  mammals  of  Australia  are 
fchieily  marsupials,  allied  in  structure  to  the  marsupials  which 
now  inhabit  that  continent ;  the  extinct  mammals  of  South 
America  closely  resemble  living  sloths,  armadillos  and  ant- 
taters.      '  I  was  so  much  impressed  with  these  facts  "  says 


ch.ix.]      SPECIAL-CREATION,  OR  DERIVATION?  461 

Mr.  Darwin,  "that  I  strongly  insisted,  in  1839  and  1845,  on 
this  wonderful  relationship  in  the  same  continent  between 
the  dead  and  the  living.  Prof.  Owen  has  subsequently  ex- 
tended the  same  generalization  to  the  mammals  of  the  Old 
World.  We  see  the  same  law  in  this  author's  restorations  of 
the  extinct  and  gigantic  birds  of  New  Zealand.  We  see  it 
also  in  the  birds  of  the  caves  of  Brazil.  Mr.  Woodward  has 
shown  that  the  same  law  holds  good  with  sea-shells.  Other 
cases  could  be  added,  as  the  relation  between  the  extinct  and 
living  land-shells  of  Madeira ;  and  between  the  extinct  and 
living  brackish-water  shells  of  the  Aralo-Caspian  Sea." 

It  has  indeed  been  urged,  by  upholders  of  the  special- 
creation  hypothesis,  that  these  striking  resemblances  may 
be  explained  by  supposing  each  species  to  have  been  created 
in  strict  adaptation  to  the  conditions  of  life  surrounding  it. 
That  is  to  say,  God  has  continued  to  create  edentata  in 
South  America  and  marsupials  in  Australia,  because  these 
two  continents  are  best  fitted  for  the  comfortable  main- 
tenance respectively  of  edentata  and  of  marsupials. 
Stubborn  facts,  however,  are  opposed  to  this  theory  of  the 
methods  of  Divine  working.  The  assumption  that  each 
species  is  best  adapted  to  its  own  habitat  is  refuted  by  such 
facts  as  the  now  rapidly  progressing  extermination  of  native 
animals  and  plants  in  New  Zealand  by  European  organisms 
lately  carried  there.  Cow-grass,  thistles,  dock,  and  white 
clover  flourish  more  vigorously  in  New  Zealand  than  in 
England,  and  within  a  few  years  have  almost  displaced  the 
native  grasses  ;  while  the  native  rats  and  flies  are  fast  dis- 
appearing before  the  rats  and  flies  imported  from  Europe. 
The  assumption  is  still  more  strikingly  refuted  by  a  comparison 
of  the  forms  of  life  which  inhabit  Australia  with  those  which 
inhabit  the  southern  extremities  of  Africa  and  South  America. 
These  three  tracts  of  land  are  very  similar  in  their  physical 
conditions;  and  yet,  as  Mr.  Darwin  has  observed,  it  would 
be  impossible  to  point   out  three  faunas   and  floras   more 


462  COSMIC  PIIILOSOriLY.  Lpt.  il 

strikingly  dissimilar.  If  the  distribution  of  organisms  were 
miraculously  determined  in  accordance  with  their  fitness  to 
their  surrounding  conditions,  the  fauna  of  South  America  in 
latitude  35°  ought  to  resemble  the  fauna  of  Australia  in  the 
same  latitude  more  closely  than  it  resembles  the  fauna  of 
South  America  in  latitudes  north  of  25°.  The  case  is  just 
the  reverse.  Again  there  is  no  appreciable  difference 
between  the  conditions  of  existence  in  the  seas  east  and 
west  of  the  isthmus  of  Panama  ;  and,  according  to  the 
assumption  of  the  special-creationists,  their  marine  faunas 
ought  to  be  almost  exactly  alike.  In  fact  no  two  marine 
faunas  are  more  completely  distinct.  Hardly  a  fish,  mol- 
lusk,  or  crustacean  is  common  to  the  eastern  and  western 
shores.  This  is  because  the  isthmus,  though  narrow,  is  im- 
passable for  marine  organisms.  On  the  other  hand,  wherever 
groups  of  organisms  are  not  prevented  by  impassable  barriers 
from  spreading  over  wide  tracts  of  country  or  of  sea,  we  find 
distinct  but  closely-allied  species  widely  spread  and  living 
among  the  most  diverse  conditions.  The  inference  is  obvious 
that  the  population  of  different  zoological  and  botanical  areas 
is  due  to  migration,  and  not  to  special  creation.  Where 
organisms  have  a  chance  to  migrate,  they  migrate,  and 
became  adapted,  by  slight  specific  changes,  to  the  new  cir- 
cumstances which  they  encounter.  But  where  there  is  a 
barrier  between  one  area  and  another,  there  we  find  complete 
diversity  between  the  inhabitants  of  the  two  areas,  although 
shere  is  no  reason  for  such  diversity,  save  the  impossibility 
of  getting  across  the  barrier.  Of  like  meaning  is  the  fact 
that  batrachians  and  terrestrial  mammals  are  never  found 
indigenous  upon  oceanic  islands.  As  Mr.  Darwin  observes, 
"  the  general  absence  of  frogs  and  toads  from  oceanic  islands 
cannot  be  accounted  for  by  their  physical  conditions  ;  indeed 
it  seems  that  islands  are  peculiarly  well  fitted  for  these 
animals ;  for  frogs  have  been  introduced  into  Madeira,  the 
Azores,  and   Mauritius,  and  have  multiplied   so   as  to   be- 


ch.  ix.]      SPECIAL-CREATION,  OR  DERIVATION?  463 

come  a  nuisance.  But  as  these  animals  and  their  spawn 
are  known  to  be  immediately  killed  by  sea-water,  there  would 
be  great  difficulty  in  their  transportal  across  the  sea,  and 
therefore  on  my  view  we  can  see  why  they  do  not  exist 
on  any  oceanic  island.  But  why,  on  the  theory  of  creation, 
they  should  not  have  been  created  there,  it  would  be  very 
difficult  to  explain."  That  terrestrial  mammals  cannot  cross 
the  sea  is  obvious;  but  bats  and  birds,  which  can  fly,  are 
found  on  many  oceanic  islands.  In  an  admirable  essay  on 
the  migrations  of  organisms,  considered  with  reference  to  the 
Darwinian  theory,  Prof.  Moritz  Wagner  has  collected  many 
similar  examples.  From  personal  observations  in  North 
Africa,  in  Western  Asia,  in  Hungary,  and  in  America,  this 
veteran  naturalist  educes  the  general  conclusion  that  the 
limits  within  which  allied  species  are  found,  are  determined 
by  impassable  natural  barriers.  Coleoptera  with  their  wings 
fastened  down  under  their  wing-cases,  are  specifically  dif- 
ferent on  the  opposite  shores  of  small  rivers  ;  while  butterflies 
and  hymenoptera  range  over  large  tracts  of  inland  country, 
but  are  stopped  by  such  obstacles  as  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar. 
On  opposite  sides  of  the  Andes,  the  conditions  of  existence 
differ  but  little,  while  on  the  north  and  south  sides  of  the 
Caucasus  the  difference  in  climate  is  extreme.  Yet  the 
Andes  are  much  the  more  difficult  to  cross  ;  and  accordingly 
the  fauna  which  they  separate  are  much  more  unlike  than 
the  fauna  separated  by  the  Caucasus.  In  like  manner  the 
Galapagos  Islands,  situated  some  six  hundred  miles  from  the 
South  American  continent,  possess  a  fauna  which,  with  the 
exception  of  a  few  birds,  is  generically  distinct  from  all  other 
faunas.  Yet  though  generically  distinct,  it  is  South  Ameri- 
can in  type,  and  most  resembles  the  fauna  of  Chili,  the 
nearest  mainland.  Furthermore,  among  the  animals  living 
on  the  different  islands  of  the  group,  we  find  specific  diversity 
along  with  generic  identity.  So  also  Madeira  "is  inhabited 
by  a  wonderful  number  of  peculiar  land-shells,  whereas  not 


4G4  COSMIC  PIIIL0S0FI1Y.  [pt.  ii. 

one  species  of  sea-shell  is  peculiar  to  its  shores."  Similar 
relations  are  found  universally  to  hold  between  the  organisms 
which  inhabit  oceanic  islands  and  those  which  inhabit  neigh- 
bouring continents. 

These  facts  of  geographical  distribution,  when  taken  in 
connection  with  the  facts  of  geological  succession  above  men- 
tioned, speak  very  emphatically  in  favour  of  the  derivation 
theory.  That  theory  affords  a  satisfactory  explanation  for 
this  entire  class  of  facts,  while  the  special-creation  hypothesis 
is  incompetent  to  explain  a  single  one  of  them.  They  are, 
moreover,  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  prominent  facts  of 
morphology,  of  embryology,  and  of  classification  ;  so  that  the 
evidence  furnished  by  the  four  classes  of  facts  taken  together 
becomes  truly  overwhelming. 

When  in  the  next  chapter  we  come  to  consider  the  specu- 
lations and  discoveries  of  Mr.  Darwin,  we  shall  see  that  the 
case  in  favour  of  derivation  is  even  stronger  than  as  here 
presented;  for  we  shall   see   that  certain  agencies  are  un- 
ceasingly at  work,  with  the  long  continuance  of  which  the 
absolute  stability  of  specific  forms  is  incompatible.     But,  as 
between  the  two  hypotheses  of  special  creation  and  of  deriva- 
tion, the  arguments  already  brought  forward  are  far  more  than 
sufficient  for  a  decisive  verdict.     The  presumption  raised  at 
the  outset  against  the  Doctrine  of  Special  Creations  is  even 
superfluously  confirmed  by  the  testimony  of  facts.     Not  only 
is  this  doctrine  discredited  by  its  barbaric  origin,  and  by  the 
absurd  or  impossible  assumptions  which  it  would  require  us 
to  make ;  but  it  utterly  fails  to  explain  a  single  one  of  the 
phenomena   of  the   classification,   embryology,   morphology, 
and  distribution  of  extinct  and  living  organisms.     While,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  Doctrine  of  Derivation  is  not  only  accre- 
dited by  its  scientific  origin  and  by  its  appealing  to  none  but 
verifiable  processes  and  agencies,  but  it  affords  an  explana- 
tion for  each  and  all  of  the  above-mentioned  phenomena. 
I  think  we  may,  therefore,  without  further  ado,  consign 


ch.  ix.]      SPECIAL-CREATION,  OR  DERIVATION?  465 

the  special-creation  hypothesis  to  that  limbo  where  hover  the 
ghosts  of  the  slaughtered  theories  that  were  born  of  man's 
untutored  intelligence  in  early  times.  There  we  may  let  it 
abide,  along  with  the  vagaries  of  the  astrologists,  the  doctrine 
of  signatures,  the  archceus  of  Paracelsus,  the  elixir  vitce  of  the 
alchemists,  and  the  theory  of  perpetual  motion.  The  space 
which  we  have  here  devoted  to  it  is  justified  by  the  vividness 
with  which  the  discussion  has  brought  before  us  the  contrast 
between  mythology  and  science,  between  Anthropomorphism 
and  Cosmism.  But  in  the  chapters  which  are  to  follow,  the 
question  of  its  merits  or  demerits  will  no  longer  concern  us. 


iiND  OF  VOL  L 


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